Hoping for a Refuge
by theDarkIsRising
Summary: After a hasty rescue, Hermione must go into hiding at Lupin's, carrying a rather weighty 'object' the Dark side wants. That's not even half of their troubles. A mouthy dead Seer, one angry Voldemort, some close quarters, and even closer calls...
1. The Cursed Blessed

**Disclaimer**: J.K. Rowling owns it. All of it. Every last bit. And I wouldn't dare take it, since I am not capable of writing novels of that size. 

A blasted plot bunny has been hopping around and I couldn't ignore it! Though it is missing a tail and an ear or two, I assure you the plot will become solid...sometime...but until then enjoy and as always in the world of reviews are lovely.

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She could feel her head lolling back on a shoulder. Hands were hastily stuffing her limp body into a soft gown. Someone was trying to support her weight, to keep her from falling. A sharp voice penetrated the haze, "Stand up." A soft smile on her lips, she instantly complied. How could one not listen to such a gentle, sweet voice? Almost like music, a voice added.

Her body was lifted and carried none too gently across the room. Unceremoniously, she was dumped on a bed. Though her eyes were closed, she didn't need to see to know it how soft and fluffy it was. Just like the Head Girl's bed at Hogwarts. The haze was pushed aside at the memory. Shouldn't she be at Hogwarts? Panic seized her muddled brain momentarily and she began to struggle against the sheets being placed over her.

"Stop moving," barked another voice. A rough hand pushed her down again, keeping her from moving. Yet again she did so but less willingly. "We need to get started soon. Is he on his way?"

From across the room, the sound of a door creaking open reached her ears. Footsteps shuffled back, allowing the newcomer closer access to the bed. Fabric brushed against her hand, and then a cold, slender finger touched her cheek. Involuntarily, she withdrew from the foreign touch, hate pushing back the fog again.

"You are sure she is the one? I cannot stand for anymore setbacks," a frigid voice said.

"Yes my Lord, all of it points to the Mudblood," squeaked a voice from the end of the bed.

"Very well. Proceed."

A vial stopper popped open, the tinkling of metal against glass as the potion was stirred. More footsteps, moving toward the head of the bed. "Open your mouth," came the next command. Her brow wrinkled. She was not in the hospital wing; Madame Pomfrey didn't talk in such tones, so then why would she be taking a potion? Cold glass was pressed against her lips, and she raised a hand to push it away. "Open. Now." Fingers clamped down on her nose, blocking her airway. She gasped, gulping down air along with the foul mixture.

"My Lord, she is set for the incantation," the now retreating voice came.

A thin, pointed object pushed against her stomach through the multiple linens. No more light was shining through her docilely closed eyes and a slight chill set in. She shuddered at the air touching her exposed face and hands. Chanting started, loud and harsh against her ears at first then receding into a soft sound like waves. A final shrill voice shouted, "_Conceptio gravido_."

At first coldness swept from the point of the object, coursing through every vein and nerve. She shivered and twitched causing limbs to entangle in the bed sheets. As suddenly as the sensation came, it departed. Her body began to relax again. Then a piercingly hot pain burst in her abdomen, blazing up with a fierce force. The last thing she remembered was gripping the sheets in pain and the agonizing scream that escaped her lips.


	2. Wakening To The Realization

**AN:**Oh wow...reviews! Quite a surprise to tell the truth, I still maintain no one in their right mind would read my fics. :D Thanks so much! 

**Disclaimer:** I may own copies of JK Rowling's books but alas I do not own the characters in them. The only thing to my name is this fluffy plot bunny.

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A firm hand dabbed her forehead with a cold compress. Instinctively, Hermione moved her hand through the fog around her to swipe it away. Her subconscious had instilled in her the reflexes to reject all touch, realizing vaguely after awhile _who_ was doing the touching. Most of the time such behavior earned her a muttered curse with a swift slap, yet this time only the motherly click of the tongue.

Confused by the new reaction, Hermione's brain clumsily grasped through the thinning haze that either the person was different or the place was. Or both. Thoughts started to arrive at a much faster pace than before. It was as if she was surfacing from a deep dive and taking her first breath. Sounds began to filter in. A chair scraping as it was dragged across the floor. The swish of fabric as the person left her side. Hurried whispered voices across the room. Familiar voices, Hermione's mind cried with a joy she had not felt in ages.

With a start, Hermione did something she had not been able to do for quite sometime. She properly opened her eyes and saw the world around her.

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The sound of a body crinkling sheets alerted the rest of the room's occupants to the awakened patient. Both a man and woman rushed around the crisp white divider curtain to Hermione's bedside. The old man, who Hermione instantly recognized as Dumbledore and felt her heart lift at the sight, studied her with a slightly grim expression, causing the good feeling to falter. Madam Pomfrey, unmistakable with her bun and already overbearing nature, did not waste time with looks, but instead launched into questions. 

"How are you feeling, Miss Granger?" Before an answer could be given, the nurse put her hand to Hermione's forehead and then promptly began taking her pulse. Hermione found her voice none to eager to be of any use. She struggled to force any sound from her dry throat. Panicking a bit, she pointed to her mouth then made a motion to demonstrate drinking. Madam Pomfrey understood the gist of it and handed Hermione a glass of water from the side table. She proceeded to gulp the entire thing down, suddenly feeling her thirst and hunger return. The now empty glass returned to its former spot and two pairs of eyes looked on expectantly.

"I'm feeling a bit sore and hungry but I don't think I'm dire," Hermione said hoarsely. Her mind, now fully functioning, whirled and spun in a frenzied activity. How had she ended up in the Hospital Wing with Professor Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey both looking like the she was going to burst apart at any second? She shook her head, attempting to organize the thoughts running rampant. Why were all her memories so blurred and hazed? Hermione raised her eyes to look at both of them, it being her turn to look expectant.

"Some food for the girl, Poppy," Dumbledore said. He almost seemed to be avoiding her gaze. As Pomfrey walked off behind the curtain and out sight, Dumbledore took the seat next to Hermione's bed. A tired, haunted look in his stunning blue eyes gave away the feeling behind the calm face laid before Hermione.

"Professor?" she inquired gently.

"Miss Granger," he began, pausing to stroke his beard then gave her a softened look before continuing, "no doubt that you are more than a little confused at waking here. Even I am lost as to the precise reason for what has happened."

Dumbledore stopped to look at her, giving her a chance to add anything. A word or phrase to help explain the mystery that had unfolded before them. Hermione bit her lower lip and quickly went through the mess that had once been her brain.

"I-...I can't really remember much... everything is so clouded. I do recall there were hands th-that took care of me, but I didn't see anything," she stopped and bit her lip a bit harder than she meant to. The pain aroused a deep memory, one that had been carefully cloaked. Chanting voices, numbing cold, and the burst of pain. Hermione's hands instantly went to her abdomen where the hot force had been the worse. Pressing down slightly, she noticed that it felt a little hard underneath her skin. Her eyes flew back to Dumbledore's, their cinnamon irises wide and searching.

His face seemed to become more lined as he sighed and said softly, "Yes, Miss Granger, I'm afraid...you're pregnant."


	3. Chicken Soup for the Lonely Soul

**AN:** If being evil to Rowling's characters gets me reviews, then things don't bode well for Hermione. ;) Thanks for all the support and sorry for the delay, I was out of town. I will be gone next week also! 

**Disclaimer:** I'm neither British nor am I rich. So how could I own this?

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Last Chapter: **His face seemed to become more lined as he sighed and said softly, "Yes, Miss Granger, I'm afraid...you're pregnant."

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As the words washed over her, they left only a shocked state of numbness in their wake. Hermione's eyes remained locked on Dumbledore's and her hand never strayed from its position as if waiting for him to deny what he'd just said. Silently, she beseeched him to laugh and say that he had only been joking. No such response came. Tears began to break through Hermione's shock, brimming until she knew they would spill over. Holding the floodgates shut, she could only choke out a forced, "What?" in response. 

Dumbledore's hand found hers. "Hermione," he reverted to her first name, "You have been missing for over two months." She let out a surprised gasp at this and her other hand clamped over her mouth. "We... we," Dumbledore squeezed her hand, "had feared the worst, that you had been killed. The last anyone had seen you alive was at the Hogsmeade visit in September."

A flashback drifted back to Hermione like a long forgotten dream.

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"Hermione," a whiney voice drifted over to her bed, "come shopping with us." 

"You know we'd be great at helping you pick a dress for the Halloween ball," added another sugary voice.

She rolled her eyes at Parvati and Lavender's fourth attempt to get her to go to Hogsmeade. Wouldn't those girls ever give it up? Hermione was running out of synonyms for 'no'. Plus, it wasn't like she was helpless when it came to fashion. The dress robes for the Yule Ball had been picked out by Hermione's hand alone.

"The ball is ages away," she tried politely for the last time, "I have plenty of time to pick out one."

A sigh slipped through the slit in Hermione's bed curtains. Hurried whispers were exchanged. "There's a new bookstore opening right next to Zonko's! Did you know that, Lavender?" Parvati said, a little too cheery.

Hermione grumbled and rolled her eyes. "Ok, ok. I'll go!" She pushed back the crimson curtains to see two very smug faces. Maybe she could even buy herself a present for her birthday on Monday.

Having finally shaken off both of her fellow Seventh years, Hermione smiled as she ran her fingers over the crisp spines of various volumes. Her old friends, books had never let her down. Sighing contently, she began browsing the multiple shelves in 'The Paper Menagerie'.

An hour later, Hermione walked out, gripping a new book to her chest. She was in such an excellent mood that she thought perhaps she would let Parvati and Lavender help her with the dress. Hermione still hadn't decided yet on red or—

Her ramblings were abruptly cut off when a black gloved hand reached out from a narrow alley, roughly seizing her arm. Hermione dropped the book she had been carrying as the world faded around her. The book's embossed letters gleamed tauntingly in her failing vision, "Quick Defenses for the Quailing Wizard"

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The slight clanging of dishes brought Hermione bumping back into the reality of now. The reality of being pregnant. She began to shake and stifled a sob with her hand. A reassuring pat of the hand from Madam Pomfrey as she sat the tray of soup and crackers in front of her, calmed Hermione a bit. 

"Eat, Miss Granger. You need your strength," Madam Pomfrey said. She then thrust a spoon in Hermione's direction and with a pointed nod from Dumbledore, stalked out.

Hermione glanced up at Dumbledore. "How...how could I have been away so long? What did you tell Harry and Ron? Mum and Dad?" The last part came out rushed and whispered. Her grip on the spoon tightened. What were they all going to think? Here she sat, in school, eighteen, and with child. Oh Merlin, she thought as a single tear spilled over onto her cheek.

"You had the obvious symptoms of being controlled by the Imperius Curse for a long period of time," Dumbledore began to tick them off on his fingers, "hazy memory, loosing all sense of time, and disorientation." He rubbed his eyes and continued answering her question.

"I informed the school and Ministry that more than likely DeathEaters had kidnapped you. For what I didn't know. Both Harry and Ron were devastated, as you would imagine. They were quite elated to hear of your return." He smiled to himself remembering the memory. "I wrote your parents explaining your disappearance. Of course, they didn't fully understand the meaning of it, but they have been worried sick."

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off her question, "Do not worry, no one knows of your condition except for the few involved. I do not have the right to tell what is yours to explain."

She stared down at the slowly cooling chicken noodle soup. It was going to be a long time, she decided, before anyone knew. Hermione couldn't bear the thought of having to sit down with her family and friends and have such a conversation. Think of what they would say. She was sure everyone would be support, saying it wasn't her fault. Then the unspeakable questions would remain floating in the air. How she was going to a raise a child and finish school? How she would support it? Who its father was...?

Sputtering on the soup, Hermione tried not to choke as the question repeated in her head. How had it taken so long to think of that? She dropped the spoon, letting it splash back into the bowl. Hermione released the built up emotions and began to weep openly.


	4. Blast those Greasy Spies

AN: These chapters keep writing themselves without my permission! Especially that last one...mmm...it wasn't very good. But the reviews have spurred me on to a fourth chapter, where I hope to pick it up a bit! Oh, I'm sorry but I'm just not capable of long chapters....these things hit me short bursts.

Disclaimer: Just...look at the other chapters. /points vaguely at the screen

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Last Chapter: Who its father was...? Sputtering on the soup, Hermione tried not to choke as the question repeated in her head.

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"Miss Granger, try to stem the faucets for a bit," an oily voice said and was immediately followed by a slightly yellowed handkerchief.

Hermione lifted her eyes to meet another pair, black and cold. They peered down a rather large nose and matched the stringy, shoulder length hair. She felt her heart rather fall at the sight of her Potions professor, Severus Snape.

Gingerly, she accepted the outstretched square of cloth. Hermione proceeded to dab her eyes then make a loud honk by blowing her nose, before offering it back to Snape. He waved his hand at it, saying he had no use of it anymore.

"What are you doing here, Professor?" she asked, putting the handkerchief next to the food tray on her bedside table.

"I do believe I teach here and am free to go where I please. Moreover, I am some business to discuss with the Headmaster." Snape turned to Dumbledore, obviously wondering whether it was to be discussed here or away from Hermione.

Dumbledore nodded, then with a flick of his wand produced another chair next to him. Snape dusted off his wrinkled robes and sat, almost with a sense of eagerness. He proceeded to pull a sheaf of parchment paper out of his robe sleeve. The writing on it was scrawled as if written in a great hurry and it had torn in places.

"Professor," Hermione began and felt suddenly timid when both fixed her with a stare, "I mean-I was thinking and I wanted to know if...you had any idea who the father was?"

The last part of her question came out quiet and both men leaned in to hear it. Snape's face seemed to flicker at the Hermione's inquiry but was quickly replaced by his expressionless facade. His hand gripped the paper tighter, while his breathing appeared to quicken.

Dumbledore only readjusted his half-moon spectacles. "I do believe we should first begin with how exactly you came to be expecting to acquire a better view of this." He looked over at Snape, giving him the go ahead with a swift nod.

"Voldemort," Snape's eye twitched, "performed a rather old and complex incantation to impregnate you." Hermione could tell immediately that he was uncomfortable discussing such things with her. "It's known as the Conception Spell and has been outlawed due to its harsh nature and unpleasant odds of survive. But the key is, it always works."

"I've read about it. Doesn't it have side effects...."

"Yes, once the woman is pregnant, there is no going back. Miss Granger, you will have to have this baby or else it would kill you in any process to remove it. Binding charms in the incantation ensure this."

Hermione swallowed, hard, at these words. She had never given a single thought to harming the child. Though it had not been her choice, she would never kill anything that was so much of her. Hermione's hands drifted back to her abdomen. The fact that a little boy or girl was growing inside of her still gave her a jolting shock.

Snape faltered over his next words. "As for the father, us wizards are no farther along than the Muggles in matching up DNA and such. Unless we have someone to compare it to, that is still in the dark."

"What do you mean?" Hermione felt her face go red at Snape's calm face as he said those words. "With magic, we can make things fly, turn chairs into bats, and you're telling me that we can't even figure out WHOSE semen is WHOSE?" She now realized she had sat up and was rather close to both faces.

"Miss Granger, keep you're voice down." Snape responded first. He continued, cutting off Dumbledore. "And that's not a very pleasant tone to use with the man who dragged you out of Voldemort's claws."

Snape's eyes were boring holes into hers as they continued the stare off, both unwilling to crumble. Hermione wondered what possessed Snape to care enough to actually rescue her. He had never been anything more than slightly tolerant and always frigid. Dumbledore would have sacked him if he found out Snape left me there, she thought. Or maybe he has a heart after all. Doubtful, yet Hermione had noticed a change in his body language that suggested other wise.

Finally, Hermione broke off and looked over to Dumbledore. He sat straight in his chair, sage robes billowing over on to the floor. She bit her lip, waiting for him to tell her. It was Dumbledore. He knew everything.

"He's right, Hermione, and you know he is. Such a smart witch like you should."

She felt herself give in to the reality. Hermione had known there was no such spell, potion, or incantation to give a parental test out of the blue. The entire library, including the health section, had been poured over by her. She wished for once in her life that she could be wrong. That know-it-all Granger's luck had ran out.

"I was able to obtain some information concerning why you were taken, if it is any consolation to you, Miss Granger," Snape said smoothly. He flattened out the parchment paper on his knee, then handed it to Dumbledore. Hermione watched as Dumbledore's face stayed pensive while reading the tattered paper. After a few pondering minutes, it was handed over to her.

Hungrily, her eyes flicked over ink stained paper. The scrawling handwriting whipped across in a frenzy of lines. Hermione's brow wrinkled as she mouthed out the words. Her expression became more and more confused. She looked up and then back down.

"I don't understand. This can't possibly have anything to do with me..."

Snape nodded his head. "I heard Voldemort himself talking about you and about this." He plucked the paper from her hands.

Hermione's eyes flicked from Snape to Dumbledore. "No," she repeated firmly.

Scowling in her direction, he began to read from the paper:

'Neither good nor evil shall it be

Only innocent until it sees

Both sides then will choose

Who shall receive the Grace'

"According to this prophecy and my sources, you are carrying 'it'"


	5. Enter the Wolf

AN: Sorry for the delay! I'm back in action with this fic and am thinking of writing another. gasp I do hope to be nicer to Hermione in the new one though...maybe.... :D

Disclaimer: Me no own. JK Rowling own all.

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Last Chapter: (Snape) "According to this and my sources, you are carrying 'it'"

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Hermione felt like she had been momentarily knocked speechless by Snape's conviction and began to come to terms with what he was saying.

"But it doesn't mention me at all. So how did they know...?"

"This isn't the entire prophecy, Miss Granger. I happened to hear the last bit. The first part must make a mention of you and the father," Snape said, then slipped the parchment back up his sleeve.

Dumbledore, having been strangely quiet through Hermione and Snape's exchange, flexed his fingers in front of him. He quietly regarded both before finally speaking.

"How did Voldemort come across this information?" His light eyes fixing upon Snape.

The Potion's Master turned slightly ashen. "Do you remember the young witch, Megan Hollowell? She was kidnapped about a year ago."

Hermione's eyes widened at the name. She had been in the Order meeting called to discuss Megan's kidnapping. Most agreed that Voldemort had taken her in order to keep an eye on her. Some speculated that he was waiting for her to make her third and final prophecy. Hermione recalled that the whispers around the table were discussing her first two, one of hope and one of despair. The last promised to offer both.

A sigh escaped Dumbledore's lips. "Yes, we feared Voldemort had taken her for her ability to tell the future. This prophecy is hers then?"

"I found out too late that the Dark Lord had her imprisoned, waiting for the last prediction. From other DeathEaters, I discovered that it was September 2nd that she finally prophesied. After three more days of questioning, Megan Hollowell was disposed of."

An even darker cloud settled down upon the Hospital Wing at such news. The same sadden expression reflected on all three's faces, though Snape looked much more in control of his emotions. A loud rap on the door broke the brief quiet, which Madam Pomfrey, having been sitting off to the side, quickly jumped up to answer.

In walked a man with sandy brown hair and shining gray eyes, who surveyed the strange gathering with a mixture of confusion, excitement, and even worry. He quickly greeted and hugged Madam Pomfrey before nearly running over to the bed with its curtains slightly drawn.

Snape snarled as Remus Lupin stood next to him, reminding Hermione of a dog regarding an intruder. She felt a brimming happiness at seeing her old DADA professor. His robes still appeared worse for the wear, but he looked less haggard, most likely due to Snape's steady improvement of the Wolfsbane potion. Remus also seemed to be having a hard time standing still and not rushing to Hermione.

"You're early, Remus. I wasn't expecting you for another fifteen minutes," Dumbledore said, deciding to ignore Snape's behavior.

"The vampires in Wales weren't as hard to convince as in Scotland. We got done earlier than anticipated," Lupin replied, his eyes fixed on Hermione. They revealed his thrill at seeing her and the underlying anxiety.

He quickly diverted his attention to the woman in the bed, sitting on the downy mattress beside her. "Hermione, where have you been? What's happened?"

Hermione opened her mouth to respond, but found she couldn't bring herself to say anything. Like a fish, her mouth hung open slightly as she continued to stare at his face, full of concern and worry. She felt herself begin to shake and tears over came her again. A rough, warm hand grabbed hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"Dumbledore, what's going on?" Remus asked softly, his hand still holding Hermione's quivering one.

"It's a quite a long story, Lupin," Snape said.

"I wasn't asking you, was I?" Remus shot back. He gave Snape a stare even the other man could have been proud of if it hadn't been directed at him.

"This isn't the time," Dumbledore voice came calm over Hermione's hiccups. "Remus, I need you to take Miss Granger under Order protection. She cannot stay at Hogwarts under the current circumstances. It could prove dangerous for her and the other students."

Hermione was now resting her head against Remus' shoulder, still sniffling slightly. His hand patted her back in a comforting manner, while he whispered soothingly. She felt her breathing slow down and quietly thanked Remus in her thoughts. Yet Hermione could still feel her heart begin racing as she thought of leaving Hogwarts and the questions that were soon to be asked.

"What did he do to her?" he whispered, as if hoping she wouldn't be able to her him.

"He impregnated her, Lupin, if you really want to get down to it," Snape spat.

"That is enough, Severus! Please, leave me to deal with Miss Granger and Remus, alone," Dumbledore said. His eyes flashed behind his half-moon glasses and they gazed icily at Snape as he left in a huff of billowing robes, throwing glares back at them.

Instead of being repulsed as Hermione predicted he would be, Remus only grasped Hermione tighter. She finally let herself relax for the first time since she had awakened, in her former professor's strong, safe hug. He hadn't turned her away. Hermione breathed easier as she felt the acceptance, she never thought would come.

"Now," Dumbledore continued, "Voldemort did as Snape said. I fear he will come back for Hermione. That's why I need you take her some place safe."

"But, Albus...why--?"

"I'm sorry, Remus, but we don't have the time for questions. I have a folder here concerning the matters and when Miss Granger feels the time is right, she will also fill you in."

"Headmaster..." Remus tried again.

Dumbledore held up a hand. "Voldemort is planning as we speak. Hermione needs to be hidden as soon as possible. Do you know of a place where both of you could hide until she can give birth?"

Hermione felt her mouth go dry at the mention of giving birth. People had always regarded her as a strong woman, but she felt herself give a shudder in Remus' hold at the thought.

The movement was not lost on the werewolf, and he glanced down in concern, before answering, "My parents' house has been vacant for years and is in a Muggle town. I doubt that would be the first place he would look."

"Good, very good." Dumbledore clapped his hands and a plain manila folder appeared in one hand while a small black bag in the other.

Remus untangled a hand from Hermione to take the folder. He eyed the bag with a sense of dread. His werewolf senses did not like whatever was in it. Gently he pushed Hermione up off of him, looking into her red eyes, "How about living with old Lupin for a bit?"

She bit her lip, before slowing nodding in agreement. Hermione braved a strained smile, "Sure."

Looking a little too happy for the occasion, Dumbledore rubbed his hand together, smiling down on them. "Well that's all set then. Now Miss Granger, you're luggage will be coming later on tonight when we have the time to gather everything. Remus, more information will be coming your way tonight, also. Keep your eyes open."

Slightly confused at those words, Remus clutched the folder and nodded. This had to be one of the more cryptic missions he ever had to do. Keep your eyes open? Looking over at Hermione's tear streaked face, he felt a strange mix of relief and rage.

Remus had been one of the many looking for her and hope had disappeared after five weeks. Now here she sat, back with them. Yet not the same. A growl came up at the thought of Voldemort. Sick bastard. Remus would make him pay.

Dumbledore beckoned them to stand. Remus slid off the white sheets and put out a hand to help steady Hermione. She swung her legs over, feeling them begin to throb with pain. Wincing slightly, she put pressure on them and stood. Hermione swayed, immediately thankful that Lupin had a hand out to keep her up.

"Now, since the Floo network is no longer in service, you will have to travel by Disappearing Dust. I'm going to throw it over you and Remus; you'll need to concentrate on your parents' home. Miss Granger, it's just best that you hold tight to him and keep your mind blank. Don't need you two splitting up."

The same thought ran through Remus and Hermione's mind. _Wasn't Disappearing Dust outlawed? _As if reading their thoughts, Dumbledore said, "It's my special version of it, no need to fear." With that encouraging statement, he scooped a bit of black, sparkly powder from the bag and threw it into the air.


	6. Lupin Lea

AN: Ahoy! First, I would like to thank **Fool Moon** and **hye em yes** for reviewing that last chapter. [Remus is an absolute doll, isn't he!?] Readers, the review button does not bite. ;) Unless of course Hagrid tampered with it....

Disclaimer: Do I have to keep doing these? Fine, fine. Pas mine, comprenez?

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Last Chapter: Gently he pushed Hermione up off of him, looking into her red eyes, "How about living with old Lupin for a bit?"

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Feeling her death-grip on Remus' waist being buffeted about, Hermione fully appreciated the Floo Network for the first time. Compared to Dust, Floo seemed like a ride on a kiddy carousel. She had long ago, or had it only been a few minutes, squeezed her eyes shut to the insane swirl of colors and buried her head into his chest.

Hermione could tell that Remus was not doing any better. The arm around her shoulder crushed down like a clamp. His continuing focus on her and the destination was not a task Hermione envied at the moment. She could only focus on her increasing nausea.

A few moments latter, Hermione's knotting stomach began to ease, as did the strange ringing in her ears. Her grasp on her human lifesaver loosened and the weight on her shoulders lifted. Daring a peek, Hermione felt relief to see the blur of colors coming to halt, forming various shapes and objects.

"Thank Merlin," she whispered into the older man's robes.

"You can say that again," Remus muttered.

Somehow Hermione and Remus were able to disentangle themselves from the slightly tight hold of the trip. Both flexed their fingers, glad to see them still functioning. Hermione rubbed her shoulder and found that bruising had already begun. Looking stricken, Remus profusely apologized and immediately asked if he could do anything.

A smile twitched at the corners of Hermione's mouth at Remus' reaction. _If he weren't so seriously this kindhearted, that look on his face would have been funny_, she thought. He continued looking slightly worried at her. _I'm not going to fall about at any minute! _She sighed at that reoccurring bitter voice that kept popping up. _Oh...I must have hormonal schizophrenia..._

"You could start sweeping," joked Hermione lamely.

"Only if you do the dusting," Remus quipped back.

The state of the room was no laughing matter. Hardwood flooring was in dire need of a good sweep and mop, as there were a few inches of grime on it. Cobwebs hung from the corners and in between the moth-eaten drapes. Dust covered everything in a think gray layer. Ghostly furniture hid beneath sheets, while the fireplace was black with soot.

"Let's see if the rest looks as well kept as the parlor," said Remus. He placed a hand on her elbow and lead Hermione toward a doorway on the left.

"We can only hope, can't we?"

v.v.v.v.v

After finding a kitchen, dining room, bathroom, and laundry room in similar states, most hope had disappeared, along with the dissolving sunlight. Neither held out much optimism for the rooms on the second floor as they climbed, single file with Remus in the lead, up a flight of stairs to the right of the kitchen.

"How long has it been since your parents have lived here?" asked Hermione.

Remus ran his hand through his hair, thinking, "Mum was here last nearly thirteen years ago."

"What about your dad?"

"He left this house when I was six. I haven't seen him since."

Hermione noticed the dead sound in Remus' voice at the mention of his father. Glancing up at the sandy hair in front of her, she could only guess his dad must have left around the time he was bitten. Hermione frowned at the thought of Remus' being abandoned at such a young age over something he had no control over.

"And this is the second floor," said Remus breaking the silence.

He ushered her up onto the landing with a flourish of his arms. She took the arm he offered as if she were being escorted into a grand ball of sorts. All thoughts of Hermione's condition vaporized for the time being, while they began opening more doors.

"Oh," grinned Remus, "this was my room."

He pushed the squeaky door open to reveal a wooden four post bed, a desk, bookshelf with a few tattered volumes, and peeling wizarding posters.

"Very stylish," commented Hermione. "Doesn't look like it has changed much from your younger days."

"You say that like it was a while ago." Remus mock sad face did move Hermione to tears of laughter, instead of sorrow. "Mum didn't want to touch it, in case I decided to come back."

"Whatever happened to your mum? Is she living somewhere else now?" Hermione asked, bouncing slightly on the mattress.

Remus' face was no longer faking sadness, but had transformed into a truly somber visage. Hermione instantly regretted asking and mentally slapped herself for being nosey.

"No, she's passed on. It was awhile back. Some Muggle boys robbed the house, then shot her. Without her wand, she bled to death," he answered.

"Remus, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have asked..."

"It's okay. Really, it is! That was a long time ago." Remus smiled down at her sitting on the bare mattress. "So let's go see my mum's room and then you can pick which one you'd rather reside in."

They crossed the hall to a slightly bigger room with a similar bed though larger, bedside tables, vanity, and what Hermione thought was an adjoining bathroom. Much to her surprise when Remus opened the door to show her a walk-in closet. He murmured that his mum loved dress robes a bit too much.

"I think I'll take this room," Hermione said. "It's not like man needs a vanity anyway."

"And what am I going use when I get ready in the morning?" Remus teased. "Oh well, that means I get first choice for the bathroom."

He then pointed out the one and only bathroom at the end of the hall. Remus was relieved to find that the water still ran in the faucets and the toilet flushed; though it gurgled slightly. He noticed Hermione's reaction to the one bathroom but as usual she took it in stride. They would have to plan that out so nothing too embarrassing would happen.

Hermione fought back a yawn as they made their way back to "her" room. Nothing escaped Remus though, she was noticing. He glanced over at her, seemingly taking in her drooping eyes and slightly slack expression. _After two months over being basically sedated, you'd think I'd be bouncing off the walls_, Hermione thought.

"I think it's time you call it a night, Hermione," Remus said, glancing down at his watch. "It's nearly 9:30."

"Only 9:30," she raised an eyebrow, "feels much later. I shouldn't be this tired."

"With what you've been through, I'm surprised you've even stayed on your feet this long. You're a very strong woman, Hermione," Remus said the last part softly with slight reassuring squeeze on the arm. "And now I think you'd better rest up for all that dusting tomorrow."

Hermione couldn't help but smile at Remus, always heartening and good-natured. She leaned against the doorframe, letting Remus do a quick clean up of the room with his wand, even conjuring up a set of sheets that put themselves on. Of course, Hermione would have helped, but her wand was most likely still with Voldemort. She'd be getting it back one way or another.

"I think that's as clean as I'm going to get it tonight," Remus said, flicking away a few more dust bunnies.

"Thanks for doing it for me," Hermione replied.

"Anytime," he winked.

Folding back the covers, Hermione slipped between the sheets into the slightly warm bed. _He must have put some charm on them_, she thought sleepily. Remus bent down to give Hermione a quick peck on the forehead and pull the covers up higher.

As he was bent over, Remus asked, "Do you need me to stay or anything?"

__

Hermione, you're a big girl. "No, no. I'll be fine, honestly. You go on and get some sheets on your bed."

Reluctantly, Remus nodded and made his way out of the door. He looked back at Hermione's already tranquil face, listened to her breathing become steady, and closed the door. Leaving the room dark.


	7. Night Owls and Night Terrors

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AN: Sorry about all the "hot off the press" chapters I have been posting. I'm just so eager to update that I fail to proofread. I probably won't have any typos this time since I'm going over.

To reviewer **noxlupis** (_im disaponted not one refrence of sireus being and ass!_): Umm.... could you repeat that, please? Sirius will not show for very obvious reasons. Is that what you're saying?

**__**

Thanks to all my coherent reviews! Moon Archer & Satern Mya

Disclaimer: As they say over in Athens, Οι χαρακτήρες δεν είναι ορυχείο. Μόνο η πλοκή.

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Last Chapter: As he was bent over, Remus asked, "Do you need me to stay or anything?"

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Hermione, you're a big girl. "No, no. I'll be fine, honestly..."

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Glancing up at the brightly-lit windows, Hermione smiled at the old castle in front of her. Hogwarts. Her home, the place where it felt as if nothing could go awry and if it did Dumbledore could right it.

Thrill seizing her, she dashed across the green lawn and rushed up the stone steps. Hermione pushed open the heavy oaken doors and walked into the Main Hall. Seeing no one about, she queried into the silence, "Hello?"

Muffled voices began to emit from behind the Great Hall's doors. Feeling drawn to them, Hermione made her way to the dining hall and cracked open the doors to take a peek. To her, it seemed everyone was gathered for supper. She wondered how she had forgotten about it as she walked to the Gryffindor table.

Hermione's eyes traveled over the students. Oddly, all their heads were bent low over the golden flatware. She noticed Harry and Ron doing the same as she sat beside them. Up close to the tables, Hermione quickly observed no one was eating since there wasn't any food on the tables at all.

"Harry, what's going on?" Hermione whispered, suddenly aware the room went still at the sound of her voice.

Harry began lifting his head, as if to answer her. But as he did so, Hermione's eyes grew bigger at the sight of his face, her voice failing her for the first time. His face glowed chalk white, yet where his scar had been, a piece of flesh had been carved out, leaving it glistening red. Both eyes had been gouged out, leaving only bits of nerve-ending left dangling. Cuts had been made at the corners of his mouth and slit up into his cheeks.

Hermione was frozen to her spot and could not take her eyes away as Harry seemingly tried to answer her, but only blood gushed forth from his mouth, dripping out of the cuts in his cheeks. Regaining her voice, Hermione screamed and scrambled off the bench to stand horrified as the rest of the faces turned to look at her. She felt tears sting her eyes and bit back bile as each classmate of hers looked more grisly than the last.

"What happened?" she yelled, tears beginning to fall freely.

"You."

Her eyes shot to the previously unoccupied professor's table. Dumbledore stood, pointing at her, bones and sinew the only bits left of him. The rest of the teachers stood next to him, silent and staring like the rest. Unable to hold it in any longer, Hermione vomited onto the stone floor, her gags the only sound.

Shakily, she wiped her mouth off with her school robe. Her stomach rolled again and she averted her eyes from the people to the door. From her position, Hermione decided she had a clear run at the exit. She started toward it slowly then broke off into full run as she heard the rustle of robes and people standing.

The distance stretched on in front of her, taunting. She could her them begin to whisper, not hearing what they said, not caring. Hermione just wanted to get away from the hellish Hall. The noise grew louder like the angry buzz of an insect. She covered her ears to block out the sound.

Skidding to a stop in front of the closed doors, Hermione took her hands off her ears and pulled with all her strength on the wooden doors. With each tug, the din died down. Another pull. A bit quieter. This continued until a pressing silence settled over the room and Hermione, feeling the hairs on her neck prick up, stopped her fruitless escape attempt.

Slowly, she spun around and then promptly pushed herself up against the door. The entirety of Hogwarts was pressed in around her; their slack faces all trained toward her. Hermione felt herself begin to tremble. Neville Longbottom stepped forward, his scalp seared from his head. He pointed at Hermione and said, "It will destroy us."

Hermione's belly began to swell rapidly at his words. Her clothes stretched to accommodate the bulk. She stared, wide-eyed at her new, expansive waist. Cautiously, she put her hand on to it and quickly withdrew after feeling a flurry of movement. Hermione looked up, feeling dazed.

A fourth-year in Ravenclaw she had seen on a few occasions emerged from the gaunt crowd. Her arms were bent behind her, twisted in unnatural positions. "Look at what it has done to us."

The sea of people parted to let a tall figure through. Hermione bit her lip and held her breath as Remus came to stop in front of her. His curled, burnt skin sparkled with silver and holes pockmarked his face. He placed still warm hands on her shoulders and drew her towards him.

"Remus..." pleaded Hermione, sniffling.

"Look at what it will do," he whispered, looking down on her.

"No, it can't. It hasn't even been born yet!"

Remus leaned down to her ear. Hermione could smell his rotten flesh and could even feel heat radiating off of him. Faintly, he muttered, barely a breath on her ear, "But it will do it." With that he grasped her tighter, swinging her around toward the crowd.

Hermione let out a bloodcurdling scream.

v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v

Remus pressed his palms against his forehead and let out a tired sigh. He had begun leafing through the apparently ordinary manila folder. The onslaught of memories and emotions the pages brought on him were overwhelming. It made Hermione's disappearance feel like yesterday, not months ago.

He leaned back, stretching over the back of the cloth-covered sofa. Since putting Hermione to bed, the house had once again regained its silence. Remus found this to be a blessing, a time for him to sort out his personal and professional parts in this. He had been as crushed as everyone to find out she was missing from the group back from Hogsmeade. Now to have her back brought such a relief and elation about him that he didn't know he could feel. Yet it also brought a deep simmering anger and desire for vengeance.

Shaking his head, Remus tried to clear his mind. He now, more than ever, had to be calm and collected as he always was to help Hermione through this. He could not loose control and risk them both. Remus blew his hair out of his eyes, and peered back over the folder again.

The top piece of paper had been a note from Dumbledore informing Remus that he would be their Secret Keeper and be over in the early morning hours to perform the Fidelius Charm. Though Remus knew the Headmaster was the safest choice for being the Keeper, he hated to place some more responsibility on the older man's already heavy load.

Next, a thick set of papers consisted of Order transcripts concerning Hermione, all written and hidden by Dumbledore himself. For most of those Remus had been there in person and knew the subject by heart. He only scanned those for things he might have missed than moved on to a short piece of parchment clipped to a few sheets of silvery paper.

Remus glowered down at Snape's handwriting on the first piece. He read it over twice, slightly puzzled. Instantly, Remus recognized the softly glowing papers as Pensive sheets. It was similar to the basin but instead of recounting the memory visually, instead it was recounted in words.

Reading over them, his face fell slightly. He had, at first, no idea what would drive Voldemort to impregnate Hermione. Remus assumed he was being the sick, demented wizard that he was. Now.... Remus rubbed his eyes; Hermione had become another victim of prophecy. He had seen what foretelling could do to people. Just look at Harry. A happy life had been cheated from him by a divination. That blasted prophecy had killed Lily and James!

His angst thoughts were cut short as his ears picked up slight noises above. Remus quietly reached for his wand, preparing for any number of attacks. As he slunk toward the stairway, a piercing sound caused him to grip his wand tighter and rush up the steps, taking them by threes. Hermione's desperate, frightened screams.


	8. In the Early Morning Hours

**AN: **I would like to apologize for such a long delay between chapters! I knew classes starting back up for fall would slow me down, but catching a cold and even a lack of Internet for a bit were unexpected! Well, enough of my pity party…here's a shiny, new chapter…

**Disclaimer: **If you understood the last disclaimer in Greek, then you know what's going on.

**Reviews: **/me looks around all teary-eyed I HAD SO MANY GREAT REVIEWS!!!

**Fuzzyfurry** – _Ahh…well I had quite a fun time thinking up the most horrid things for JK's beloved characters. Haha I think I need to up this to 'R' rated. Glad to hear you like it! _**Deal-with-it/Laichi** – _Wahoo my first 'long' review! Isn't Remus just the greatest?! Never fear I will convert you over to HG/RL, I myself being a former HP/HG. Haha loved your review and hope to see more. _**Captain Oblivious** – _Wow thanks for such an awesome review. You never really know how much a review means until you author up a story! Haha yeah this plot is slightly messed up…but hopefully in a good way. Oh, just wait until I bring dear Severus back later… _**LaurelinElentari** – _I'm flattered you put me as one of your favorite stories! Hope you enjoy the rest of the show! _

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**Last Chapter:** _Neville Longbottom stepped forward, his scalp seared from his head. He pointed at Hermione and said, "It will destroy us."_

...A piercing sound caused Remus to grip his wand tighter and rush up the steps, taking them by threes. Hermione's desperate, frightened screams.

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Hands clutched her shoulders; their firm grasp easily felt through the thin hospital gown. Hermione struggled against them, pushing and shoving. Even in her semi-conscious state, Hermione knew she was not having any effect. They had even started to shake her slightly. "No," she murmured in protest.

"Hermione, you've got to…" It was Remus' voice again.

"NO!" The shaking intensified. She could still see the faces and smell the flesh.

"…wake up. It's only a dream."

As Hermione felt herself awakening, the horrific images slowly melted away until there was only one face looking intently back at her. Remus Lupin's raw face hung in front of her. Slowly, his nauseating features dissolved back into his regular face. Now restored lips continued moving, speaking to her. Hermione slowly lifted her hand to touch Remus' cheek as to assure her that it was real.

Lightly, she traced down the length, noticing that the only roughness on it was not curled skin but stubble. Relieved and still in a slight stupor, she let her hand begin to fall back to the bed, but instead it was caught by Remus.

He had seen the fear in Hermione's eyes at her first glance up at him, a full onslaught of terror. Yet a needing desperation was all he sensed with the contact. Now watching her sit up with her hand still in his, he wondered what had happened to cause this.

"Hermione."

"Remus?" she whispered, her eyes looking him over.

"Hermione, I'm here now. It's going to be alright." He felt her petite hand shake in his larger one.

"How is it going to be alright?"

Thanks to his good hearing, Remus caught her nearly inaudible question. He was caught off guard by the fragile sound her voice held. "I'm not for sure yet, none of us are, but I'm here for you. You know that. Whatever it was you saw wasn't real. "

"You didn't see them," she shivered again and placed her hand over her mouth as if she was going to be sick.

"Who?" he asked gently.

"Harry…Dumbledore…you," Hermione's voice cracked slightly. "Oh, Remus…you…you…were covered in silver…it was so awful."

"I'm safe here, nothing is going to happen to me. I might be old, but I can still put up a good fight." His slight, wry smile was lost in the dimness of the room.

With help from the light in the hall, Remus could see the tears shining on Hermione's face. Her expression was torn and she seemed to be avoiding his face, instead they focused on the bed sheets. Smoothly he extracted his hand from hers and proceeded to softly wipe the new tears gliding down her face.

"'Mione, look at me." Remus tilted her head up. "I know you're scared. Merlin, I'm scared too. Though I may not show it, I am. Everyday when you were gone, I'd wake up and pray it was a just a dream. But it wasn't, that nightmare never ended until yesterday. Now that you're back, I am never going to let him hurt you again. I will protect you…Merlin knows I will."

Remus felt his face flush with emotion while speaking ardently to Hermione, even feeling a bit foolish at letting such feelings show. Though his words seemed not to help at all. Tears were threatening to spill over her lashes and she quivered a bit. Diverting her watery eyes, she pushed off the covers and gave his arm a fluttering touch before a teary mutter of needing to use the bathroom.

His hand steadied her as she pushed herself onto the floor and then she swiftly advanced toward the door ajar at the end of the hallway. Remus kept his watchful eyes on Hermione's retreating back and the now closed door. He was too busy pondering to hear Hermione's muffled words, "But can you protect yourself from me?"

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Miles away in a dark room a man, if one could call him that, leaned back in his chair, regarding a kneeling figure at his feet. He tapped his lengthy wand idly against his knee, causing green sparks to emit from the end. A cruel smirk played upon his lips watching the bowing man squirm in his position. How he loved to watch them wriggle with fear.

"Any leads?" Voldemort began, still tapping.

"My…Lord," came the halting reply, "I'm – I mean – we are still…looking…but I assure–"

"But you assure me of what, Wormtail? That you will once again come back here without a single clue, not as though _you_ ever had one to begin with. Is that it?"

Wormtail's watery eyes focused on the Dark Lord's right hand. The past hours he had not managed to avoid such fate. Seeing his master's eyes change from malicious amusement to a fierce cold stare, he knew that his information would not be getting him out of trouble anytime soon.

"We…we…don't have anything new since the last update." Noticing the tapping stop, Wormtail quickly stuttered out, "B-but Avery n-noticed an unusual disturbance in the transp-portation networks."

"And you didn't think that was important to me?" asked Voldemort icily.

"My Lord, he said it could be just…cosmic interference…since Mars and Pluto are aligned that bent the spell's parameter. Avery thought it would be foolish to bother you with it," he finished in a squeaky rush.

"Idiots! That spell's purpose is to track magical transportation, and if there is a disturbance, then someone is moving about by abnormal means! It must be her…Dumbledore cannot have her appearing on my radar…"

Wormtail shifted from side to side. Hopefully this would be considered good enough news so that he could follow up on it and maybe escape the Master's wrath. How he had wanted to find that Mudblood. Maybe this time the Dark Lord would allow him a few moments alone with her just to show her how glad he was to have her back.

"Go tell Avery to recheck the blip in the spell. Trace it and do not disappoint me again."

"Yes…yes my Lord," Wormtail scuttled toward the door.

"Wormtail?"

"Yes, Lord?"

"Cruico!"


	9. Unexpected Visitor

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AN: waggles a finger at the people who put her on author alert and do not review I assure ya'll the review button is just as satisfying as checking that box!

Disclaimer: Ich besitze nicht Remus oder Hermione, aber ich besitze dieses schreckliche storyline.

Reviews: Thanks goes out to _Captain Oblivious_, _LaurelinElentari_, _arena_, _mysticalecho_, and _hand3_.

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Last Chapter: Remus was too busy pondering to hear Hermione's muffled words, "But can you protect yourself from me?"

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A soft glow emitted from Remus' watch as he punched a button in order to read the time. 4:37 A.M. it flashed back at him. Dumbledore had never given him an exact time of arrival, only saying he would be over in the early morning hours. Remus hoped it would be soon; the feeling of being exposed and unprotected had him on edge. Every sound he heard, every flicker of movement was Voldemort closing in.

Scanning the room, Remus' eyes fell on a nodding Hermione at his left. She had tucked her legs under her body and her arms were crossed. He had wondered if she could fall asleep again after early. He frowned at how uncomfortable her body seemed to be in the wing backed chair. Hermione's head drooped forward somewhat and her shoulders hunched. The couch would be better for her.

Carefully and quietly, Remus gathered Hermione up in his arms and laid her down on the aged couch's still firm cushions. She only stirred a bit when he had first disturbed her by getting her out of the armchair. Hermione shivered before stretching out into her newfound space; her mass of curls standing out against her pale face. Ever watchful, Remus shrugged off his outer robe and placed it over her, tucking it in around the edges.

Satisfied that she now was snug and resting, he returned to her former chair to further await Dumbledore's arrival. Remus relit his watch. 4:46 A.M. To think under two hours ago, he somehow managed to get a shaken up Hermione down the stairs. She had been rattled all right. After a bit of Transfiguring, Remus had produced a cup of steaming tea. Hermione could not even hold it without the cup tinkering against the saucer. Her eyes had held a far off look in them as she stared.

Remus had tried to gently prod her into telling him more about the nightmare of hers. Blatantly, she refused to divulge any more information. Hermione continued telling him about how he had looked and some others at Hogwarts. He did not push her in that direction as it was obvious it pained her to speak about it. She repeatedly denied knowing how it had happened or who had done it. In the dream, she simply showed up and everyone had turned into gruesome zombie-like shells. That was that.

Resisting the urge to yet again look at the time, Remus, needing to do something other than sit, crossed the room to the bay window. He glanced back one more time at Hermione's tranquil body before peering out onto the landscape.

Towering out in front of him was the thicket of trees that separated the house from the main road. Clouds obscured what little light the half moon gave off, occasionally throwing the scene into darkness. Remus knew without any light, he could easily follow the wooded path out onto the main road and arrive to the small village. He wondered whether the inhabitants would remember him. Although he had not been around the town in quite some time, Remus feared that perhaps some of them had a good memory.

A faint whiff penetrated through the musty house smell and interrupted his moment of thought. Its weak tones carried scents of musk and spices that only an exceedingly sensitive nose could have picked it up. Immediately, Remus recognized it as Lucius Malfoy's cologne. He nearly chocked on it every time he was near the man. With little movement, Remus extracted his wand from his back pocket. _How had they found them so quickly?_

Judging from the smell's direction, Malfoy must be lurking in the kitchen. Remus stealthily crept toward the entry of the kitchen. He passed Hermione still on the couch and debated whether to awaken her and tell her. Deciding against it, since not arousing her gave him the element of surprise, he pushed his back against the wall. Listening intently, he could only hear nasally breathing and the light tapping of a foot. He peered into the darkness of the other room. A lone shadowy figure stood near the doorway apparently looking off in the other direction, not even toward the living room.

After standing there for a few moments, Remus decided that it was now or never. Remus with overwhelming speed and agility easily overtook the other man. He twisted the other's right arm around his back, pushing him against an open spot on the kitchen wall with Remus' wand soon jabbed into the side of his neck. The other, caught so off guard, barely put up a fight except to flay wildly until Remus had him restrained.

"Who are you?" Remus demanded into his captive's ear, even though he already had an inkling.

"Fhainph!" stated the man.

"Huh?" Malfoy's answer came muffled and incoherent. Easing his grip on the man, Remus asked the question again. "Who are you?"

The reply, laced with ice and seething with undercurrents of anger, "Snape! Severus Snape, you idiot! Now get off of me!"

Instantly, Remus withdrew his wand and released Snape's arm. Look a little more than a bit disgruntled, Snape turned around to glare at Remus and proceeded to straighten out his robes, all the while muttering darkly under his breath. Slightly mortified, Remus wondered how he could have mistaken Snape for Lucius even if the he did smell like him.

"What are you doing sneaking around like, Severus? I could have killed you!"

"You're disappointed, I'm sure," Snape sneered. "I am accompanying the Headmaster here to put this assignment of yours in order. Merlin knows we can't have you messing this one up. Remember your mission in Rome, Remus? What a complete disaster."

Heat flared up in Remus' face and he fought hard to keep what he really thought about Snape from pouring out of his mouth. Thankfully, a voice from the living room saved him from having to answer.

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A muffled thud jarred Hermione from the light sleep she had been drifting into. Peering around, she found someone, obviously Remus, had moved her to the couch and covered her. Hermione pushed herself to a sitting position, yawning a bit. She pulled the robe, which she at once noticed to be Remus', closer to her. The moon, now shining lower in the sky, illuminated the empty room. Fear raising her heart at such realization, Hermione reasoned with herself, _Maybe he's just in another room. He hasn't left me…he's not dead…_

The last thought chilled her more than the frosty air in the room. Keeping calm, she pulled Remus' robe over the white gown Pomfrey had dressed her in and moved toward the stairs. Remus was carrying his wand, she found out relieved, since it was not in his robe's pockets. Placing a hand on the banister, she looked back suddenly from the stairs at the sound of another noise. This one from the kitchen. Hermione leaned over to peek into the dim room. She rolled her eyes at her own foolishness. There stood Remus, outlined against the light from a window.

"Remus," Hermione began as she passed through the threshold into the kitchen, "what—"

She stopped short when she spotted another person in the room. Upon closer inspection, that person turned out to be an irritated-looking Potions Master. His mouth set in a mean line while he looked her over before returning to glower at Remus. Her former DADA professor appeared just as thrilled to see the other.

"What are you doing here, Professor? I thought the Headmaster was the one coming," Hermione said, standing in front of them both.

"As I was telling Lupin after he _manhandled_ me, I am helping with the Order business here. Albus should be along soon," Snape checked his watch. "He said he might be a little late. There's been some disturbances in London needing a look into."

"I thought you were Malfoy," Remus said, quick to defend his actions. "I smelled his cologne and assumed he somehow found our whereabouts. I wasn't going to stand there and wait for him to attack."

"You smelled Lucius' cologne on me from another room? I've only been around the man for a few hours today. Complete waste of my time, the man is clueless about any prophecy or just putting on an act." Snape smirked, "Perhaps I could get your expert opinion on where my essence of menthol has went to. You could simply sniff it out for me."

Remus' jaw worked up and down. Both men stood on strained terms ever since the death of Sirius. Not that Snape's words helped the situation. Looking to avoid an explosion from Remus, Hermione placed a hand on his arm to calm him. He looked down at her face. "He's not worth it and you know it," she whispered, "He just wants a rise out of you; don't give it to him."

She felt him relax a bit and she gave him a reassuring smile. Turning her attention back to the dark-haired man, Hermione bit back a few choice words. Why did he have to torment Remus so? Did he not see that Remus did that enough to himself? She hoped she could keep these two off each other long enough for the Headmaster to get here.

"Wise beyond your years aren't you, Miss Granger."

Remus prickled again. Needing to get out of this disaster waiting to happen, Hermione tugged him toward the living room. "Let's go sit down to wait. I think it's a bit warmer in here."

"Are you cold?" asked Remus as the trio moved into the front room.

"How could she be, Lupin? I'm sure you provided her with the least tattered robe you owned. Less than seven patches on this one, I see. Must be a sort of treasured item for you," muttered Snape.

"What was that?" retorted Remus.

Snape stared mockingly at the sandy-haired man from his chair. "I'm sure you heard me correctly."

"Severus," Remus said in a deadly tone, "I have never been anything other than courteous to you. I don't know why you persist –"

Hermione noticed Remus had buttoned his shirtsleeves and began to roll them up. Both held their wands in death grips and trained in the general direction of each other. All of this was becoming ridiculous and immature.

"Always playing a pity party, aren't you –"

"- you were always the one who was aloof. It wasn't me –"

"Oh, don't start on being standoffish, Lupin. You and you're friends –"

"Stop! Stop it this instant, both of you!" Hermione shouted. "Just like a bunch of first years, pointing fingers. I don't want to hear it. Both of you have equal blame. Do grow up!"

Remus looked away from Snape and down at his hands, a little ashamed. The black-eye wizard shut up to Hermione's satisfaction, but a smug expression hung on his lips, giving him the look of a winner. After her outburst, the room fell into a waiting silence, only broken by a few "yes" or "no" questions by Snape. "Had everything gone all right?" Hermione quickly answered "yes" to that one in order to avoid explaining about the dream; she caught Remus eye and he understood. "Anything unusual, other than him?" No. "Is there any tea worth drinking around to be made?" No, unless you decided to Transfigure something.

At the mention of tea, Hermione's stomach involuntarily growled loudly, causing some stares. She had not realized how hunger she had become, and suddenly wondered if she was going to be like that for the next seven months. Butterflies fluttered across her empty stomach as she recalled that fact. All the excitement of Snape's abrupt appearance had shoved that from her muddled mind. A sharp crash from upstairs brought Hermione out of her thoughts and her seat. All three jumped to their feet to see who or what made mincemeat out of the upper rooms.


	10. Just Another Bump in the Night

**AN:** The chapter numbers have hit double digits. Hoorah! Sorry for the delay, I've had a horrible case of writer's block. My muses decided to take a holiday and not tell me. Plus my computer converted this chapter into something other than text and I lost nearly half the chapter trying to get it back! –chucks computer–

**Disclaimer:** Let's break the word down: fanfiction. Fan – Fiction. I am but a humble fan writing fiction for absolutely nothing. Except maybe…reviews…

**Reviews:** LaurelinElentari wins the longest review award and receives a cookie! Thanks to all my awesome reviewers: Gecko149, sasa, hand3, mac1, blackdragonofdeath13, and Clash!

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**Last Chapter:** All three jumped to their feet to see who or what made mincemeat out of the upper rooms.

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"I'm going up to see what happened," said Snape. "Lupin, stay with her and if I don't come down in a few minutes, Apparate out."

Remus shook his head. "I can't let you go up there alone, Severus. Who knows what all is up there. I'm going with you."

Leaning in toward the huddled figures, Hermione whispered, "What about me?"

"You can't stay down here by yourself," replied Remus immediately. "They could attack this floor." He rubbed his eyes. "You're going to have to stay between me and Severus. It's the only way to keep you protected from all sides."

Another thump sounded from above their heads. "Let's go," said Snape.

Feeling completely naked now without her wand, Hermione filed behind Remus going up the stairs. Snape followed closely behind, so much so, she could hear his nasally breathing. The air's tension pressed in, only broken by the occasional creaking board. Hermione gripped the handrail firmly; it helped steady her hand and occupied the longing brought on by the lack of her wand. She strained for any noises as they reached the landing but knew if anyone heard anything, it would be Remus.

Remus cautiously made his way onto the second floor. Careful to not be noisy, Hermione took the last step up. As she strode forward, a slight halt sent her lurching forward toward the hardwood floor. Instinctively, Hermione threw her arms out in front of her. She braced for impact but nothing ever came. Seemingly able to sense the fall coming, Remus turned to catch her and then gave Snape a look, whose pale face appeared apologetic from the stairway.

"Okay?" Remus mouthed soundlessly.

Hermione nodded in reply though her heart continued to pound mercilessly in her chest. Remus pulled her aside, allowing Snape to pass by and stand nearby. Peering behind her, Hermione could clearly see a dirty shoe print on the hem of the robe. Remus' robe, several inches longer on her, must have trailed out on the steps. Unfortunately, fabric had still been there when Snape stepped up.

Apparently, back to his old surly self, Snape looked hard at Remus as if waiting for him to make a move. He glowered even more at the sight of the other still holding on to Hermione, despite the fact that she was perfectly able to stand. Remus hastily let go of Hermione at the sight of Snape; he did not return Snape's piercing gaze. An intense light shone from the room Hermione had stayed in, dazzling them. A dull thud sounded after it dissipated. Remus motioned to himself then the door and then motioned to Snape and Hermione. The dark-haired man nodded and stepped slightly in front of Hermione in a protective stance.

Creeping, Remus made his way to the door. He tensed in front of it then threw it back quickly, hoping to startle the person or persons on the other side. Wand in mid-wave and mouth in mid-spell, Remus froze. This was not what he had been expecting. Moonlight from the window fell on numerous suitcases and trunks. All sat strewn haphazardly across the room as though someone had gotten angry and thrown them. Seeing no one, Remus motioned for Snape and Hermione to follow.

Both picked their way through the wreckage of the room, peering curiously around. Remus bent down over a few pieces of luggage that had somehow managed to stay on the bed and not tumble off. "I do believe these are mine," he said, pointing to the rather shabby gray cases.

"That was obvious," muttered Snape.

Either not hearing him or choosing not to, Remus popped one open. Inside were some of his Muggle slacks and shirts, all neatly pressed and folded. Someone had even matched his socks together. Smiling slightly, he closed the suitcase back and looked up. Hermione apparently had found her belongings, too, her head shown over the top of the glossy brown trunk from her position on the floor. Relief appeared the most on her face, as she pulled out a shirt and trousers with a quick glance down at the worn hospital gown.

"Looks like Dumbledore sent your things ahead of him. Only he could get this number of items to a destination unaccompanied like this," Snape said as he cleared a seat for him on the bed. "He won't be far behind."

"Thank goodness," said Hermione, "I've got to get out of this hospital gown and change into some proper clothing." Clothes in tow, she made her way through the maze and stopped at the door. "I'll be in the bathroom," she called as she left.

Snape leaned against one of the bed's four posts and watched Remus begin grouping his possessions together in a neat section. He regarded the other as the number of things to sort into the sandy-haired man's pile dwindled. Loudly, he cleared his throat to get Remus' attention.

"I think this would be a good time to give you a few choice items before Miss Granger returns," said Snape.

Remus raised an eyebrow of instant suspicion, "Such as?"

"Don't play stupid, Lupin. I've brought along all the potions for you and her. They're in my cloak. I thought there might be some you'd rather not have her find out about."

"Oh, yes," Remus nodded, looking wearily at Snape, "I'll take them now. While she's out, I can hopefully get them into my room."

Rummaging around in the inner folds of his cloak, Snape produced first a green bottle labeled _WB_ then hastily put it back. Next, he extracted a wispy blue liquid with _AP_ written on it and pressed it into Remus' palm. A red opaque vial was second to be shoved at him, the lettering nearly too small to make out the double _E_'s. Finally, Snape gave Remus a black and purple potion with a simple flame design.

"I'll give you the rest when Dumbledore comes. Some of them are for Hermione and the others she already knows you need. I'll have to go over the proper usage with her on each," said Snape, look as if the prospect of doing so gave him immense pleasure…after eating a lemon. "Though I'm sure she could give me a hour lecture on each."

"I'm sure she could," echoed Remus as he slipped the vials into his trouser pocket.

He picked up a couple of his suitcases to carry over into his room across the hall. They gave him an excuse for going over there. Walking over into his room would look odd being empty-handed. Remus did not need any questions asked what so ever; he did not want to give those answers. With ease, he maneuvered his two heaviest pieces out the doorway, leaving Snape to enjoy a few moments alone.

Quickly crossing the hall, Remus dropped his luggage on the floor and hastily pushed the three vials into his desk's bottom drawer. He stared at the drawer for a bit longer then shook his head and turned around to leave. Through the open door, he could see Snape muttering and arranging various glass bottles on the vanity. A set of fluorescent green vials glowed at him in the fading night. What a blessing and yet a curse. He began to walk back to the other room but a cry from the bathroom sent him rushing down the hall.

Snape appeared not far behind him. A resounding hit reverberated through the closed door. Remus tried to turn the doorknob but found it locked. He began pounding on the door. "Hermione! Hermione! Are you okay?" Not waiting for a response, Remus squared his shoulders and rammed them hard against the door. With one hit the door gave. Inside stood Hermione looking rather stricken at a man in sage robes sitting on the edge of the tub. He held his nose with his hand and a bit of blood stood out against his skin.

"Albus?"

"He just appeared behind me and I reacted…by hitting him," Hermione said, groaning. "I'm so sorry I punched you, Professor."

Dumbledore waved his free hand in her direction. "No need to keep apologizing, Hermione. I was in a hurry and my calculations became off so I arrived in the wrong room. It is quite all right. I do believe you have straightened my nose out, though."

"Here, sir," said Lupin handing a handkerchief to him.

"Thank you, Remus. Now we must get down to the matter of business. The charm needs to be performed first and all other arrangements can come after the house is protected," his voice came muffled through the handkerchief. "It could be cast in here but we're a bit crowded."

"I'd suggest the bedroom down the hall. The luggage arrived in there and I've already set out the potions," said Snape.

"Ah, good. They arrived all right then! Lead the way."

The group trudged down the hall into the more spacious room. From the window, the sky began to become illuminated, casting a dull glow on the world. Some rather rough places in the floor were noticeable where the luggage had a landed. With the wave of his wand, Dumbledore popped those back into place then instructed everyone to make a circle around him.

Hermione bit her lip nervously as she stood between Remus and Snape. Of course, she had read about the charm but all the library books had been terribly vague on the subject. It seems for once she really had no idea what was going on. She only hoped it did not involve having to draw blood like some of the other, more er…_involved_ protection spells. Hermione then clasped the others' hands as instructed.

"Now that we have formed our circle, I can begin the procedure. Although Severus is here for the charm, I will have to inform him of its whereabouts after we leave since it will only be stored here," Dumbledore tapped his forehead. "Please do not move much, it could displace a few things we'd rather keep put, and this will be over rather quickly."

Instinctively, Hermione squeezed the hands holding hers tighter. Each of them tried to give a reassuring look though Snape's was more of just a nod. With a sweep of the wand, Dumbledore produced a bit of wood from the floor to float in mid air. All eyes fixed on it as it glowed under Dumbledore's close vision. As it became so brilliant, when they could only squint, he yelled out into the present roar, "Wood of the home needing protection, you will hold your secret in me! FIDELIUS AGORENA!"

The bit of wood burst into a ball of light that soon began growing until it engulfed the entire room in its pulsing bubble. It did not stop there; soon it went through the walls and Hermione could distinctly see a vibrant wall hovering outside the window. As soon as Hermione felt her heart start slowing down, the light suddenly imploded, rushing back into the room. The oddity of it was the absolute silence with which it did it. Dumbledore reached out and took the piece from the air. The light snuffed out with only gray ashes left in his hand.

With that, the spell over Dumbledore broke and his straight posture slumped into that of an old man. His wrinkles stood out more, deep crevasses against pale skin. He looked wearily at the trio whose arms now hung at their sides.

"You will have to speak for awhile, Severus, until I can get my voice back," said Dumbledore hoarsely as Remus rushed to hold up the collapsing wizard.


	11. Two's Company

AN: Oh wowzers it's a new chapter! :D:D:D:D

Disclaimer: erases the little ©'s she put everywhere Okay…okay…it's J.K.'s

Reviews: Thanks goes out to Fool Moon, Squishy K, hand3, and megzzy6688 who all thoroughly enjoyed seeing Dumbledore get his face smashed...

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Last Chapter: "He just appeared behind me and I reacted…by hitting him," Hermione said, groaning. "I'm so sorry I punched you, Professor."

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Hermione stared down at the various, glittering array of potions that now sat in her lap. Snape continued to plow through the seemingly never-ending supply of bottles; one for sleep, another to help heal, clot blood, antiseptic, ease pain, and on and on. He even produced a supply of potion ingredients since as he said, "Miss Granger is more than capable." The only vials he handed to Remus were a venomous green and labeled _WB_. Snape said he had made enough Wolfsbane Potion to last three months, then he would make some more unless something were to happen then Hermione must do it.

At this point, Snape pointed his attention to the recovering Dumbledore, "Do you still think this wise to leave her in _his_ care?"

Dumbledore gazed calmly over his glasses, his eyes regaining their twinkle, now icy as they regarded Snape. "I have the utmost confidence in Remus. He has lived with the condition for years and knows how to handle himself. With the proper precautions like the Wolfsbane and warded doors, they will both be safe. Now, seeing as I can speak, I only have a few points to address."

Out of his robes, Dumbledore pulled a rather large stack of Muggle bills held together with a bit of string and another manila folder. He handed the money to Remus who looked paler than he had a moment ago. The werewolf clutched the potion vials so tight Hermione feared he may shatter them. Trying not to disrupt Dumbledore, Hermione reached over and gently pried back his fingers a bit. Remus looked over but his expression did not seem to register.

"That is nearly 750 in pounds for anything you need to purchase. As I'm sure Remus knows, the village a few miles out has a grocery store and whatnot. Now I must advise that Hermione not leave the protection of the property until the hunt for her dies down or Remus, you can perform a very convincing Disillusionment charm."

"Sir," said Hermione, "when will we know if it's all right to leave? I mean you and Professor Snape can't just be popping in and out of here. Wouldn't that be noticed?"

"I'm glad you asked. That was next on my list. Still have your folder, Remus?" he asked, holding up his own matching one.

Remus nodded. "Yeah, it's downstairs. Do you want me to go and get it?"

"I can get it. _Accio folder_!" said Dumbledore and with a whoosh, it zoomed into his hand. He perched it atop the mountain of potions in Hermione's lap.

"This is how we will communicate," he announced grandly.

Everyone but Snape, who appeared bored, raised an eyebrow at that statement. How in the world would a folder allow them to communicate, but this was Dumbledore the man with a few twists up his sleeves.

"And that would be how…" started Remus.

"Just watch."

With that, Dumbledore pulled a bit of parchment from his robes and placed it into his folder. He then looked expectedly at the one Hermione had. A slight pop was heard and upon opening up Hermione's folder, there was Dumbledore's parchment.

"I tweaked a Displacement charm a bit and produced these. Splendid, aren't they? We can exchange information freely without any travel. Although, it does have a weight limit, it's not as if I can send Snape through it or even a slightly heavy object. Any person will still have to come by unconventional means in order to stay undetected. Anything else you need to put in, Severus?"

"No, Headmaster," said Snape, looking at Hermione, "but I do need to see Miss Granger for a bit to further explain some of the potions. If you would step into the hall, please?"

Puzzled, Hermione decided to place the potions on the bed since Snape had neglected in telling her which one it would be. Remus glanced at her on her way out and then proceeded to discuss something in a low voice with Dumbledore. The only part she heard as she closed the door as Snape instructed was "…has a point."

The Potions Master cleared his throat in order to get her attention. He looked at her then the door before pulling her farther away. He muttered under his breath about that wolf's damned hearing. Hermione shook off his hand that grasped her upper arm.

"Which potion did you need to talk about, Professor?" she asked.

"I bent the truth a bit. This little chat actually has nothing to do with potions. I wanted to give you something that you might need in the future," he said, pulling a long thing box from his robe's side pocket.

Hermione stared at the black box. "I doubt I need anything _you _would want to give me."

He smirked, "On the contrary, Miss Granger, open the box; you'll need both."

She snatched the box away from him and took off the lid apprehensively. Inside, Hermione was surprised and pleased to find her wand. Her stomach turned over at the other object, though. Next to her wand lie a shiny, viciously pointed dagger that gleamed dully in the hall's light. Clearly, the dagger was wrought in silver. Hermione stared down in disgust at it. She pocketed her wand in her jeans and the shoved the box back at Snape.

"How dare you even think of giving me that? He's perfectly safe and you know it. He would never do anything to me."

"Miss Granger, use the mind I know you have. He becomes a monster with no thought or care about you or anyone but only to kill. You can't get past the human side but trust me; there is an animal in him. I've seen it. He will tear you apart before you even know what is going on. Now take _it_!"

"He takes the potion. Remus still has his mind during transformation. He wouldn't…"

Snape cut her off, "What if I can't get the potion to you or the ingredients to make it? What are you going to do then? Try to out run him or use a spell? I doubt in your condition you'd get very far and werewolves are immune to most enchantments. For once, Miss Granger, don't be so stubborn and let someone help you."

He held out the box again to her. She bit her lip before taking it.

Defiantly, she looked up at him and said, "I won't use. I won't need to use it. He'd nev-"

"Yes, yes, I know he'd never do anything, but just keep it close. His nature makes him unpredictable. Now, I must be off. Tell the Headmaster I have returned the Hogwarts." Snape tapped the box lightly before spinning around and disappearing.

Now what was she going to do? She could not walk back in the room, flashing around a silver dagger, and shoving it under Remus' nose. Quickly, Hermione retrieved Remus' robe from the bathroom and flung it on. She slipped the box into the right inside pocket before going back to where Remus and Dumbledore were finishing their discussion.

"Ah," said the old wizard as she came back in, "I see Severus is through speaking with you and it appears he has already left. Well I must be going, too. I can't be gone for too long or everyone becomes suspicious."

"It was very good to see you, sir, and I am very sorry about your nose," said Hermione as she hugged him; silently hoping the box wasn't noticeable.

"No worries about that. Oh, Remus and I were just discussing continuing your studies here. I do believe there are some books packed somewhere; just have to look. Madam Pomfrey will also be making routine visits to check on both of you. I'll be sure to send word of her arrivals by folder."

"Goodbye, Albus," said Remus as they shook hands. "We'll do fine."

"I'm sure. Keep your eyes open. Goodbye," he said and vanished.

The room lapsed into silence with only two people left occupying it. Both wearily sat on the bed; the tinkle of glass as vials rolled together was the only sound heard.

"Now, I guess we can unpack," Hermione said lightly touching where the box was.

"I think you need to get back into bed and catch a bit more sleep. You haven't had much tonight," said Remus, yawning.

Hermione smiled slightly. "And neither have you. I'm not tired at all. The charm is in place; I think you can get off guard duty and go to bed. I'd rather stay up and unpack."

"Not a bad idea, but you sure you'll be okay? I mean what if something happens or-"

"What if the sky falls and your hair turns to fire? The charm is in place and I've got my wand now," she tugged it from her back pocket as proof, "I can take care of myself."

"I know you can. Rightfully kicked Ron's arse in the last Dueling Club, didn't you? And if the sky should start to fall, I'm right across the hall."

"Goodnight, Remus," Hermione called as he left.

Remus turned around before shutting her door, "Goodnight, Hermione."

Hermione waited before she was sure she heard his door shut before producing the box and hastily stuffing in the bottom drawer of the bedside table. With the wave of her wand, she magically locked it. It was not as if she was ever going to need it was she. Hermione sighed heavily. She surely hoped she would not have to.

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I'm an idiot. A bloody insane idiot! Remus again resisted the urge to pound his fists repeatedly into the walls. Growling in frustration under his breath, he stalked back over to his newly made bed and sat down. Remus pummeled his pillow with a swift, quick jab. Relieved, he placed his head in his hands.

How can you forget? You've lived with it since you were six…you can't just forget.

"What if something goes wrong and I can't control myself? What if I hurt her?" Remus asked himself aloud. "Well it's not an _if _is it…it's only a matter of time before you lose control and the wolf takes over."

The Potion, the Wolfsbane makes me safe. I keep my mind and the wolf doesn't surface. That's only if Snape can get it here or even the supplies. Then what? Put a few chains around yourself?

"The wolf goes on a rampage. I maim everyone in a 3-mile radius and in effect curse countless others and damn myself to Hell."

Remus snorted. _Quite a cheery prospect… _

Dumbledore believes in you.

"Yeah and he believes in Snape too. What a vote of confidence there."

She believes in you.

"That's only because she doesn't truly know, nor will she ever."

A quick wand wave and the lights winked out. Remus rolled over on his bed in the darkness.


	12. Surprise, Surprise

**AN:** The site really messed up my last chapters formatting! GAH!

**Disclaimer:** It's still a no-go on the whole owning thing.

**Reviews:** Thanks go out to **_zeusfluff/Maria_**, **_megzzy6688_**, **_BiggerstaffStalker_**, **_Jessica-McConacil_**(who greatly exercised the review button:D), **_gizmama_**,**_ Aelimin_**(Wow, thanks for saying this is the best HG/RL!), **_MaisjetadoreSiriusNoir/Anna_**(Long reviews are awesome!),**_ Rheniel_**,**_ Gecko149_**(Well I like you're broken record), **_sporty12gd4u_**,**_ Smiles28_**, and **_CharmedLeolvr_**(Snape…daddy…cough…nope)

And a huge thanks to everyone who put me as a favorite author, favorite story, or both! does not tell/alert me to who puts me as a fav story so sorry I don't know everyone's name to thank properly.

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**Last Chapter:** Next to her wand lie a shiny, viciously pointed dagger that gleamed dully in the hall's light. Clearly, the dagger was wrought in silver.

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Rolling over, Hermione blinked sleepily at the rays of sunlight that fell through the old curtains. She yawned lightly and wondered why; it looked be well past ten o'clock. Pushing back the blankets, Hermione gazed at them puzzled. She did not remember getting under them. The last thing she remembered was crawling on the bed and essentially passing out._ Remus_, she thought, shaking her head amused.

The air was chilly as her legs left the comfort of the bed. Dashing to her closet, Hermione pulled out a blue and green robe to wrap around her pajamas. Last night, the more she kept her jeans on the more they pinched around the middle. Hermione had finally accepted defeat and changed, trying to keep from getting too worked up about it. The too tight jeans were more reality than she was ready to face yet. Immediately somber, Hermione glanced down briefly at her bedside table's bottom door before grabbing her wand from the top and putting it in her robe's pocket.

Slinking out into the hall incase Remus might still be asleep, Hermione shut her door quietly. Since his door was also shut, Hermione tried to creep down the stairs as best she could, grimacing as each floorboard squeaked. She breathed a sigh of relief once she set foot in the living room. This room was much toasty than her own due to the roaring fire built up in the fireplace obviously done by Remus at some time or another.

She stood in front of the fire for a bit before feeling adequately warm again. Remus still had not come down from his room. _Let the poor man sleep_, she thought as she strolled into the kitchen. Her socked feet padded softly and she stopped to lean forward on the sink, looking out the window.

The world outside shone brightly lit with a golden, autumn sun shining down from a watery blue sky. Hermione squinted against the brilliant rays into the backyard. Most of the grass had died but a few hardy, pale green ones were holding on. The thicket of trees ringed the backyard as it did the front and near the far right corner was a gray shed. Going back into the front room to sit, Hermione started to turn but a motion in the yard caused her to double take.

Out by the shed, she could distinctly see someone coming out of the door. Hermione bobbed down in the window, only daring to peek a bit. She felt for her wand in her pocket. They kept approaching the house. The wand was gripped tighter. Straining her eyes to see, Hermione saw that it was in fact a man and he did not have sandy brown hair but instead it was jet black. His skin tone glowed a deep tan color while from one of his brown arms swung an axe.

_Breathe…breathe…_

Slipping up on the side of the window, Hermione clicked it unlocked and raised it a few inches with her wand. She peeked once again tentatively. He stood a few yards from the back porch, casually leaning on the wood end of the axe, looking the house over. Leaning, Hermione took aim out the bit of open window at the still target. _Petrificus Totalus!_ Instantly, the man froze, seized up, and then fell over with a dull thud along with the axe.

Hermione kept her wand at the ready while she slowly made her toward the stiff figure on the lawn. His unblinking hazel eyes stared up at her as she bent over him. Studying his clothes, she noticed they were simple Muggle attire. _Dressing as the inferiors now, are they,_ she thought. Hermione pointed her wand at the man's mouth, ignoring the pleading look in his eyes.

"I'm going to unbind your mouth and you're going to tell me who you are. Alright."

She muttered a counter curse for only his lips. A slight pop and the man wiggled his jaw around before saying, "Hermione-"

Still threatening with the wand, Hermione said, "Yes that's my name. Now yours."

"It's me, Remus. Unbind me, Hermione, and I'll show you."

"What?" she hesitated, "No, how do I know you're Remus? I rather believe you are a Death Eater."

"I'm under a few glamour charms; that's all. Ask me something. Something only Remus would know."

Leaning back on her heels, Hermione thought. "My boggart. What was my boggart in third year?"

"Your boggart was Minerva telling you that you had failed everything."

"Did I pass the boggart test?"

The man smiled, amused. "No, I'm afraid you did fail that."

She stared down at him, struggling over whether to release him. How else could he have known that? _Well, the whole class saw it. Draco could have told his father, but how could he have known I'd ask that question._ Glamour charms? Hermione racked her brain. Now what was the counter charm for glamour spells?

Nodding her head in unspoken agreement, Hermione silenced the man once more so she could work the charm to break the supposed one in place. Her wand made a slight sound as she tapped his head lightly and muttered the charm that should cause any disguise to melt away. It did not take long for Hermione to feel a bit foolish.

Within seconds, the black changed to sandy brown along with the hazel to gray and the tan to its original lighter color. She quickly released him from the Full Body Bind. Remus commenced to rub his neck and his back. "Your Bind has some bite to it," he said gingerly, getting off the ground.

"Well I wouldn't have to put you in a Body Bind if you didn't walk around like that," she smacked his arm, hard. "Thank Merlin all I did to you was a Body Bind!" She hit him again. "Don't do things like that!"

Hermione stalked off back into the house, leaving a bruised Remus to follow behind. "Hermione," he called, leaning the ax against the house, "I have a good explanation. Plus, I didn't think you'd be down this early. I thought I'd be changed back by the time you came down."

She turned around in between the kitchen and living room. "Your explanation for sending me into a panic attack is?"

"I was checking to see how far the protection charm went and I can't go wandering across the line looking like me."

"Oh," said Hermione, "still, you could have woken me up and told me."

Remus moved closer to her. "You had a long night last night and I thought I'd just let you rest."

"Did you get much sleep last night?" she asked. Standing beside the coffee table, she gave him a look much like the one Molly Weasley would give her boys.

Remus pulled the sheet off the sofa and they sat down, a bit apart, getting warm again by the fire. "I got enough," he replied.

Hermione muttered something about him needing to get more before asking louder, "So, how far out are the charm's boundaries?"

"Dumbledore really outdid himself this time. The charm goes all the way to the trees in both the front and the back. You'll be able to tell when you leave it. It feels almost a bit cold when you walk through it but nobody other than us should feel that."

"And what exactly were you doing outside with that axe anyway?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

Pointing toward the fireplace, Remus replied, "Chopping a bit of firewood, the good old fashioned Muggle way. Started that trying to get warm after going through some luggage in that freezing upper room. – I'm going to have to work on that…noticed you were somewhat cold – But anyway that reminds I have some things upstairs that are not mine. Mind taking a look and seeing if they're yours?"

Reluctantly, Hermione nodded in agreement, not wanting to leave the comfort of the fire. She followed behind and waited a bit as Remus had to wiggle the doorknob in order to get it to open. His room looked as though a rampaging herd of rather large animals had managed to come through. Suitcases lay half open; their contents pulled out. A few had managed to actually make it to a drawer or space in the closet. Only two trunks sat unopened. Both were glossier than Remus' trunks but Hermione could not recall whether they were hers.

She bent down over the blue one. "I don't think I own any that look like this. Maybe Dumbledore sent a few of his. Can't hurt to open them up and find out."

"Well let's just have a look then," said Remus and he unclasped the locks.

Tilting back the lid, the trunk contained simply clothes; these were in purples, pinks, and other colors not normally associated with the likes of Remus Lupin. Clearly, the clothes were meant for Hermione.

"More clothes," Remus said with a quick look at his disaster around him.

She carefully took out a sage green and pink-stripped top to look over. Her heart skipped a bit, as she looked it over more. The bottom part of the shirt was wider than normal while the sleeves and upper part appeared like any other shirt. Under that shirt was a pair of jeans with a plain patch of navy blue in the front. Hermione glumly put the shirt back. _Maternity wear_ kept ringing in her ears as she stared down.

"Hermione," said Remus softly, "let's see what's in the other one. Alright?"

Blankly, she watched him unclasped the green case and open it up. At the sight of the title _Completely Complex Charms_, Hermione felt herself perk up involuntarily. She eagerly leaned over Remus to see what else was in it.

"Dumbledore said he had sent along a few books, but it looks like he's packed Hogwart's entire library in here." Remus pulled out another book; this one titled, _Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts_. "My area of expertise, the one thing I can go over with you without entirely messing it up," he said with a smile.

He continued pulling out standard schoolbooks and several higher-level tomes before coming to something shiny and hard. A swift poke revealed that it was Hermione's cauldron, carefully collapsed inside the case. "Potions, one subject I was useless at during my Hogwart's days."

Underneath the cauldron sat a stack of parchment, which was on top of something else. Hermione lifted out the papers since the DADA book had temporarily distract Remus. More books sat in a neat row in the case's bottom. Their titles stared back at her: _The Magic of Being Pregnant_, _What to Expect When You're a Witch Expecting_, and _A Complete Guide for the 9 Months_.

She felt reality seize her and settle around her again. Remus looked up from his skimming to ask, "Is there more?"

Feeling her face become flushed, Hermione picked up _The Magic of Being Pregnant_ and promptly threw it across the room. She quickly gained momentum and soon all three books slumped in a heap on the opposite wall. Her breath came out in ragged jerks, fighting the urge to just…to just…let it all out. She looked down at Remus, who was still on the floor. "I didn't –"

Not letting her finish, he put down his book and stood up next to her. With a few swishes and _Accio,_ all three came zooming back into his hands. He calmly handed her _A Complete Guide for the 9 Months_. "That wasn't all you've got. Throw it again."

Hermione's face, now a less red color, grew puzzled looking. He pushed the book into her hands. "Throw it again, harder this time."

She held the book in her hands a moment as if in thought before whipping it back with a fury into the wall. Remus commenced to provide her with a continual supply of paper ammo. Repeatedly, he muttered out _Accio_, summoning back the books, only to give them back to Hermione to throw again. After about the fifth time, she had to admit it felt insanely wonderful to finally be able to take out her pent up emotions out on something, even if it was only paper.

Soon though, Hermione felt her arm give out. The emotional rush that she had felt earlier had gone. She looked down at the book in the hands then put it Remus' bed. Her eyes, a little bleary with tears, glanced over at Remus who also put the other two on his bed. He gave her a weak smile and asked, "Any better?"

"Yeah," she said, trying to keep those tears from coming out. She had tried so hard not to actually cry. Hermione blinked furiously then ultimately had to turn her head to keep Remus from seeing her wipe them away. A hand gently squeezed her shoulder.

"How about I run into town for some groceries for lunch. You must be hungry."

"Alright," Hermione managed to say. She turned back to look at Remus who seemed to be standing back again as if to give her some space. "And thanks."


	13. Interlude: Letters

**AN:** This is the first interlude of the story, well there was a bit of one in Chapter 8 but that doesn't really count. So here, we shall detract from our main characters for a bit and see how the rest of the world is doing. Also, I plug my other HG/RL story – _Beauty and the Beast_.

**Disclaimer:** Sorry, J.K., I'm still…er…borrowing your characters. Nevertheless, don't worry; I haven't gotten them too dirty…at least not yet.

**Reviews:** Muchos gracias: **_Aelimin_** (SQUEE:D Good luck with your story!)_, **BiggerstaffStalker**, **FilthyMudblood345** (_There won't be any really obvious HG/RL in a bit, so uh...rest easy?)_, **Gecko149** (_Just try and breathe…okay? Gotta love the enthusiasm)_, **megzzy668 (**_You read what was going to happen in the last chapter? Uh…does that mean I'm getting predictable or am I slow on what you're saying?)_, **Smiles28**, **sporty12gd4u**, **LALA**_, **_Shimmer of an Angel_**,and_ **zeusfluff/"The Miss" Maria**_.

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**Last Chapter:** "Well I wouldn't have to put you in a Body Bind if you didn't walk around like that," she smacked his arm, hard. "Thank Merlin all I did to you was a Body Bind!" She hit him again. "Don't do things like that!"

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The noisy throng of students filed out of Hogwart's Great Hall. Most everyone was leaving except for the few who still sat eating, talking, or just staring down at the flatware, as was the case at the end of the Gryffindor table.

Solitarily, the boys pushed uneaten food from the meal around and around on their plates. One of them finally noticed that they were nearly the only people left in the room. He nudged the somber-faced boy next to him slightly with his elbow.

"I think it's time we went up to the common room, Ron," said Harry, pushing his plate away.

"What's the point?" the other muttered, following suite with his plate.

"The point," answered Harry, "is to do our homework. We've got something due in every class and we can't keep putting it off."

Ron sighed as he rose from the table along with Harry. "But it's just not the same anymore."

"I know," Harry replied heavily. "But she's safe now and if she was here, that's what she'd be having us do."

They were heading for the huge double doors as the room continued to become darker and darker. House elves could be heard scurrying in the background, snapping a finger here and there to put out the candles.

Ron looked at him angrily. "Yeah, but they could give us more information. We're only her best friends! It's been nearly a month since she's been rescued and we haven't heard a word out of anyone since. Not even from her!"

"Maybe she can't write to us." Harry stepped out into the corridor. "Owls get intercepted all the time. That would prove a danger to her hiding position. Not that I'm saying I wouldn't like to get an owl," he added hastily, seeing Ron glower at what he was saying.

Over the past weeks, Harry had had to take over Hermione's role of being the one who kept things under control. Ron's emotions would swing wildly from time to time and he would become increasingly enraged at the situation. Not that Harry did not feel the same; it was just he had learned over the years to control the emotions he showed. Harry also suspected that Ron's overwhelming feelings stemmed from his unannounced love for Hermione.

"There are other ways to send letters," said Ron, moodily. "I just…I just need to know how alright she is, you know, and how she's feeling…"

A voice shouting from behind them cut his words short. "Mr. Potter! Mr. Weasley! Do slow down, you are walking like your trousers are ablaze."

The voice was immediately recognizable. They turned to look at Professor McGonagall attempting to sprint toward them, which was not easy for a lady of her age and selection of shoe. Skidding slightly on the damp floors, she caught up with them, breathing heavily. It took her a minute before being able to utter a sound.

"Headmaster" –breath- "needs to see both" –breath- "of you right away in" –breath- "his office," she managed to say.

"Is it about Hermione?" asked Ron quickly.

"I was not informed as to what it is about, only that he needs to see you right away. So I wouldn't keep him waiting."

Both muttered their thanks and proceeded to walk the way they had just come, backtracking to Dumbledore's office. McGonagall yelled over their shoulders once again. A simple phrase of 'Acid pops' but the meaning was easily understood. The headmaster was highly predictable in his passwords and what they would be.

The twisting walk to the office was punctuated by Ron's talk of what the visit was about. Most often, he speculated it had to do with Hermione. He ran through every possible scenario. Something horrid had happened to her. She had been kidnapped again or worse. Ron looked stricken at Harry for a moment before the other added that maybe she was actually in the office waiting to greet them.

Ron managed to calm down a bit after that statement and as they went past the gargoyle, he quieted down, but soon was as wound up as the staircase they were traveling on. Harry was also feeling a pit in his stomach. He began to fear that his supper might make a reappearance.

The duo hesitated outside the door before Ron knocked briefly, then finally grabbed the handle and rushed into the room with Harry right behind him. Only thing to be seen was Dumbledore leaning over some papers in a folder on his desk. He did not glance up from what he was reading as they entered, but did say, "Thank you for coming. Do sit down," indicating the chairs in front of him.

Glancing at one another then checking the room over for anyone hiding, Ron and Harry took a seat and waited. People with red-haired are famed for being quick with their temper and in addition to that, Ron could add impatient to such list. He had barely sat a brief moment in silence before blurting out, "What's this about anyway?"

Harry nodded his head in agreement. "Does it have to do with Hermione? We haven't heard anything in ages about her."

"Yeah," Ron reinforced indignantly.

Dumbledore looked them over and took something out of the folder. "Yes, it's about Hermione," seeing both start to talk again he quickly added, "who is completely safe and doing fine. I have just received something from her for you two."

He held up an envelope, printed neatly across the front was _Harry & Ron_. Each face brightened, each jumped up to snatch the letter; however, Ron was much faster. He tore it open and into shreds in the process. A single sheet of parchment, the only thing in it, survived the mauling. Harry leaned over Ron's shoulder to read.

_Dear Harry and Ron,_

_How are you both? Are you keeping up your grades? I do not want to hear of any slacking while am I gone. N.E.W.T.S. are this year and neither of you can afford to do badly if you want to be Aurors! Enough of my lectures, I'm really writing to say that I miss you both so much. I never realized I'd miss you two badgering me all the time about everything but I do. I cannot disclose much about where I am or whom I am with, even though this letter will most likely not be intercepted. I can say that I am not in a hole in the ground nor am I with a horridly unpleasant person. Actually, the setup is not bad; Dumbledore did a good match up. Also, I want you two to stop worrying like I know you are. I am doing fine and am not injured._

The next few sentences were marked out heavily. Whatever she had written, Hermione had changed her mind and decided that neither of them needed to know or it was not that important. Harry noticed along side those the paper's edge was discolored slightly. Through the paper fiber, a dark red substance had seeped in and dried.

"What's that?" asked Harry pointing down at it.

Ron shook his head. "I can't tell." He handed the letter to Harry so he could look.

Harry peered at it closely and started to say as he ran his finger over it, "It looks like blood. But-"

His words were cut short as he bent over in pain, one hand clutching the letter and the other pressed against his forehead. He fell to his knees then cried out slightly. Ron and Dumbledore rushed to his side but Harry did not know that. He was already gone.

_The room he was standing in was dank and dark with only a bit of light coming from a few slender candles on a lone table. Sitting at the table was a man easily lost in the dim room due to his black robe. He could not see anymore around him but that. He could not move his body at all._

_"Nott!" Harry heard himself say in a frigid tone. "When I put you on duty, I expect you to do as I say and watch the prisoner, not nap."_

_The man startled in his chair, nearly knocking it over. "Master, I'm sorry. Please forgive me. I shall never do it again." His groveling only served to irritate Harry who now tried to mentally beat against the body he was being held in._

_"I will let it go this time. Get up. Where's Avery? Surely, one of you can follow orders."_

_From the other side of the room, another man emerged from the darkness. Harry started walking towards him. The other man stood next to chair near the corner. This chair was much sturdier than the one Nott had fallen asleep in, most likely chosen in order to support the chains that snaked around it and the person being held down._

_"You look chipper this morning," said Harry, bending down slightly to look at the person's down-turned face. "Sleep well?" No reply. "Has she spoken at all?"_

_"No, my Lord, but I have the orb ready for when she does." Avery produced a white, glowing ball about the size of an orange from his robes._

_Harry saw a deathly pale hand move into his vision and realized it was his. He touched the woman under the chin, forcing her battered face to look up at his own._

_"You'll talk. You won't be able to stop it. Prophecies take a person over and we'll be here ready when it happens to you."_

_Although her eyes were closed, she began to smile then laughed outright into Harry's face. She then opened her eyes to reveal dark irises that blended into the pupils, only black circles on a white background._

_"Like the blind leading the blind," she rasped. "You have no idea what you are playing with. The Powers don't hand out visions on your watch. Although they have been whispering to me lately," she paused and looked around at the entire room, "about each of you."_

_Nott and Avery were standing much closer now, looking apprehensive. Even Voldemort leaned closer._

_"You," she said, indicating Avery with her gaze. "What you seek you will not find, but do not give up for another door shall open."_

_"And you," she was looking at Nott, "do not play with fire for even the most careful get burned." _

_Nott glanced back at the candles on the table and moved farther away. The woman had directed her attention back to Harry, gazing at him calmly. Her face became impassive. "Do you want them to hear?"_

_Harry moved his ear closer to her and waited._

_"The battle shall be long but the war longer. The Powers tell me your wins shall be in vain unless…" Her voice dropped off then she shuddered._

_A hand wrapped itself around her neck. "Unless what?" uttered Harry dangerously._

_Again, a grin cracked her solemn face then she laughed, nearly dizzily, right in Harry's face. He felt his hand raise then come down hard on her face. The noise stopped. "Miss Hollowell, remember who is tied and who isn't. Answer me!"_

_She shuddered for a second time, causing her dark hair to fall in her face. Then she went deadly still, along with the world it seemed. Through the silence, her voice came out stronger than before, a deeper, strange sound, "The time has come, and revelations shall be made."_

_Avery quickly produced the orb again, placed it next to her and let it hang in mid-air. All three men stood waiting expectedly. _

_"The Virgin born of the splitting septem…" she said. Harry could barely hear her. It was if someone was turning down the volume on a radio. He strained to understand what she was saying. Only bits were coming through._

_"…blood is still mudded…tainted womb"_

_"he who shall seed…mere mentor no more…"_

_"Neither good nor evil…both side then will choose…"_

_Someone was calling now, over the woman's harsh voice. People calling him out of his unconsciousness, pulling him out of the black stupor. _

_"Wake up," they said._

He slowly opened his eyes to see two people standing over him. Both kept a respectful distance, each looking apologetic and anxious. One was a younger man, the other an older member.

"I said I did not want to be disturbed."

"Master, an urgent letter just came in from Hogwarts. Everyone agreed it would be of utmost importance to you and you wouldn't want to receive it later." The younger held out an envelope.

Voldemort took the letter from his newly inducted lackey. "Leave me and next time one person shall suffice to wake me."

The two men bowed out of the room, looking slightly triumphant than when they had entered. They shut the door noiselessly behind them.

His red eyes glanced over the writing on the front that said only had an _L_ and _U _on the front. It was from Malfoy and he had marked it urgent. _This had better be important_, he thought. _I don't often to get to waste time sleeping. _Voldemort recalled that he even had been dreaming which did not happen often. He grinned. Megan Hollowell's inevitable crumbling was a happy memory indeed, though that had been equaled out by some idiot's incompetence.

Opening the letter, a blank sheet of parchment slid out. A quick uttered word and lines began sprawling out from where Voldemort's wand had touched it. Only a few sentences appeared.

I know he knows. He will be tailed like the last one until the opportune moment. He remains under the idea that he is still in. Information will be easy to get.

Voldemort had to admit at times that even Lucius Malfoy had his uses. The man was like a leach. He would stick the target at hand and employ all resources to get what Voldemort requested: Megan Hollowell, a few choice hairs, and now a soon to be sorry man. Pity, thought Voldemort, he couldn't have been more loyal. He was one of my favorites.


	14. A Bad Moon Rising

**AN:** Am I sick? Nope, it's Spring Break and that means you all get some Hermione and Remus in this chapter!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the characters, the general idea or their underwear, though I have tried to purchase some.

Reviews: It's not like I waited around for reviews. Gecko149 (Sorry to inconvenience you with an update. No need to get hostile), **_Aelimin_** (Can't let the whole cat out of the bag yet…I need that for later :D)

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**Last Chapter:** _Pity_, thought Voldemort,_ he couldn't have been more loyal. He was one of my favorites._

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The moon pulls on the earth daily. It causes the waters to rise and fall in tides, but that is just the moon's gravity. The moon also changes its face, a new phase for a new night. Phases pull more than gravity, causing more tragic change than the tides. And such a force cannot be reckoned with.

Remus closed his eyes and tried to concentrate. The calendar had been kind to him the past month but he had only been biding his time until this, the time when it came full circle. He had been trying to shut everything out. That task was hard when he could hear her breathing in the next room, sense her sleeping or waking, even smell and know she had come inside. Right now, he paused his thought; she's turning over to sleep on her…right…no left side.

The wolf was a wanting creature and when it came to its full strength, the second of the three days the moon was full, its peak neither waning nor waxing, it nearly pushed Remus over the edge every time. He could feel his nature changing ferociously. The emotions were consuming, overpowering.

Glancing down at his desk's bottom drawer, Remus listened to Hermione sleeping once more before opening it. He took out all three vials and placed them on the desk. He knew which one he needed first. Picking up the black and purple one, he downed a bit and waited.

Immediately, his eyes, nose, and ears began burning in unison. He shook off the effects, wiped his watering eyes, and then sipped a bit from red one. Remus grimaced at the taste, wondering if Snape did it on purpose, but that did not matter as he felt the potion doing its job. Feeling a bit more relaxed, he stared at the only one left, the blue one. He had not taken any in awhile and he knew he needed to, so he took just a tiny amount.

Remus looked out at an apparently complete circle of silver light setting but it was not truly full. Only tonight would it be full enough for him to change, not the full moon before or the full moon after, neither was as whole as the one in between. Its full power would come tonight. He started to slam the desk drawer shut but listened to Hermione's much quieter breathing, closed it slowly, and started his way quietly down the stairs.

Being in December and of course winter, the night lasted longer than in the balmy, summer days, so it was a bit before Remus could see bits of sunrays coming into the kitchen. He was nursing a cup of decaf coffee; he had learned in the past that full moons and caffeine did not mix well.

He figured he should start on actually making breakfast before Hermione came down, seeing how that was about the only meal he could make without setting something on fire. Remus puttered around the kitchen, moving the multitude of crackers aside in the cabinets, looking for some bread to toast. Over the past few weeks, crackers and ginger ale had become Hermione's best friends with her constant morning sickness or as she put it late afternoon sickness.

She had even stolen one of Remus' pillows. He smiled at that. Hermione was not good at stealth and he knew all along that she was in his room, trying ever so quietly to take the pillow that somehow was positioned next to his back. He had never mentioned the missing pillow because he knew she needed it more than he did to get to sleep these days.

Bread popped in the toaster and a few eggs in the skillet, stirring could be heard above and a few minutes later, a robed Hermione appeared from the stairs. Remus did not need to turn around to know she was there. He could sense it, even though it was not as intense as before which he was grateful. The scent of her was like raspberry with a bit of vanilla. Next time he was in the bathroom, maybe he would investigate that further, looking the bottles in there over.

He did not know how he could have looked over them for so long. Hermione had immediately set in on cleaning the house up and started promptly with the bathroom. After she declared she could see herself in it, the room quickly filled with an overflow of feminine products. Remus somehow managed to squeeze in his own meager male needs of a razor, shaving cream, and a few other things.

The rest of the house emerged out from Hermione's watchful eye much less grimy and somewhat lemony scented. He had let her do it, when she was working her face did not look so grave as it did when she was given time to sit and think.

"Good morning," he said over his shoulder, flipping an egg the best he could.

She uttered an unenthusiastic reply, sat down at the table, and asked, "How can you be up at this ungodly hour?"

Remus turned from the skillet. She still looked tired and in fact, her eyes were closed. "Years of practice, not to mention hunger." His eating habits reverted back to his teenage years whenever it was near a full moon. "Do you want something?"

Hermione slowly opened her eyes, feeling slightly nauseated. This time it was not due to any morning sickness. No, she had had the dream again. The one she dreamed the first night at Lupin Lea, the one that would not leave her alone. After a few nights of it, she had learned to keep quiet to not yell out so not disturb Remus and she would sit in her cold sweat for a bit before she was lulled unwillingly back to oblivion.

Breakfast did not smell appealing or at least nothing fried did. She shivered to herself, not due to the wintry air or the frost that crept up the windows. Hermione looked up at Remus, thankful that her dream had yet to come true.

"Do you feel alright? You don't look so well," he said, spatula in hand.

She tried to give him a convincing look. "Yeah, I'm just not very hungry. I never could eat too early in the morning, perhaps a little later I might."

"Okay," Remus said as the toast emerged. "I'll put some in the fridge for you if you feel up to it later. Just make sure you eat something before we go over your lessons. You'll need it. I planned a lesson in Advanced Potions and may Merlin help me."

He shook his head at the thought before platting his food. Hermione wondered why he had planned something so ambitious for this day. She had rather thought he might be under too much strain to go through with it. He seemed well enough, slightly more drawn than usual, but that was to be expected.

"Are you sure you want to go over potions today?" she asked.

Remus paused in eating; all the food was nearly gone. "Well, sure. I can't keep running away from the subject; have to tackle it eventually. I have a feeling today I'll be the student and you the teacher."

"I just thought," Hermione fumbled her words, "seeing what today is…you might like to take it easy. I mean I would completely understand if you wanted –"

"Oh," he said simply. "I'm perfectly fine today." _Yeah, right._ "Tomorrow, I'm afraid lessons will be canceled in order for me to recuperate but that would be it."

He was silently thanking whoever had invented the potions he took earlier as Hermione patted his hand. She said, "If there is anything I can do for you, Remus, I will."

"Thank you, Hermione, but you needn't worry much about me. It's become a routine by now and I won't burden you with it." She removed her hand, picked up his plate, and then sat it in the sink.

"I'm the burden here," she muttered to the sink, her back turned from Remus.

Remus downed the rest of his coffee. "The only burden here is Advanced Potions, which we must be getting to. Ever made a Infinitive serum?"

Hermione shook her head 'no'.

"Well, we need to get cracking then. It takes a few hours just to get the ingredients in, relatively a lot of pauses for simmering, and then it has to brew for several more. Too bad Severus isn't here to see me try this. He'd have a field day. You can go get dressed while I bring the cauldron down, and we'll see if we can avoid blowing something up."

She voiced her agreement and left, saying she would not be long. Remus put his cup in the sink to wash later and leaned forward a bit. Faintly, under the smell of half burnt toast and eggs, a fruity tone hung in the air. He stood up, walked toward the stairs, and seriously considered drinking a few vials of potion. He chided himself for such thoughts. _Got to make them last_, he thought, _until Snape brings more. These idiotic full moons come every month, and you, my boy, are going to need every last drop._

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After a few mishaps involving some black poppy seeds and wraith's blood, which Remus soon found out should never be mixed, the potion sat bubbling contently on the kitchen stove. He hoped the bits of eyebrow he lost would grow back. Hermione even had told him not to do it, just as if he was Neville Longbottom, not like Remus was listening.

"They'll grow back," said Hermione, rubbing some salve on the pinkish parts of Remus' face.

"I hope so. I look completely ridiculous," he said.

She gave him a stern look. "Well, I told you not to add the seeds until the wraith's blood was thoroughly mixed in, but then you dumped them right in anyway. I must admit; it was the best potion explosion I've seen in awhile."

"Ten galleons says Neville Longbottom tops me."

"Of course, he mixed dragon scales with both essence of an arrow toad and willow sap. Nearly blew the dungeons sky high. Luckily, Madam Pomfrey was able to put him back together," she smiled, "along with Professor Snape, too."

Remus inwardly smiled at the thought of Severus in the hospital ward since he could not move his face much to express that. Although, he was beginning to be able to feel his nose again and the sting had started to dissipate. Hermione closed up the jar, announced she was finished, and washed her hands. "Is it starting to look any better?"

She turned to look. "You're still pink here and here," indicating his nose and forehead. "Other than that I think you'll pull through."

Looking outside, Remus noticed it had started to grow darker. Stiffly he worked his jaw around and headed for the refrigerator. Hermione stood over the potion, poking at it. Opening the door, he reached in for an all to familiar green bottle, uncorked it and as quick as he could drank half of the vial. He shuddered involuntarily. _Too bad sugar makes it useless._

"What's the matter?" asked Hermione, seeing his body shiver.

"Potion," he said. "It tastes horrid."

Hermione glanced outside and then to the glowing green of the vial. "Oh," she said.

He pinched his nose this time and swiftly took the rest. _Snape probably just tells me the no-sugar nonsense to torture me._ His stomach churning, Remus could feel a much stronger sensation over come him. He shut the refrigerator door. He needed to get to his room.

"Hermione, this is my time to exit. If you would please follow me upstairs, I will quickly explain to you the procedure and after that you will have the rest of the night to yourself."

"All right, but…" she said and hurried after him up the stairs.

Outside his room, Remus stopped. "I've taken the Wolfsbane but I will be barricading my door from the inside and you need to do the same from the outside, just to be safe."

She opened her mouth to interrupt, but Remus held up a hand. "I'm running short on time and all I ask is that you do these things for me. Also, don't be alarmed if you don't hear any noise; I'll be putting up a soundproofing spell, so not to wake you. Do not unlock your side until the sun has started to rise and do not enter for your safety's sake. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes, I can," Hermione said and in a rush finished, "and I'm not scared."

Remus looked out from his almost shut door, only half of his now pale and drawn face showing. "You should be." He glanced behind him at his window. "Good night, Hermione." With that the door closed, clicks were heard from the other side then silence. A quick wave of her wand sent up a shield against his door.

Hermione put her hand against the door before going into her room and sitting on her bed. A sliver of silver light shown through the crack in the curtains. It fell directly on her bedside table. She stared down at the bottom drawer, the enchanted, locked one, for a moment. Disgusted with her thoughts, she went down stairs to check on the potion. No sound came from Remus' room the entire night.


	15. Medicating the Solitude

**AN:** Here's hoping there isn't a mutiny going on at the _Beauty and the Beast_ camp. I posted this earlier but I went back over a few typos and added another paragraph, nothing big!

**Disclaimer:** Yeah…I'm secretly J. K. getting the HG/RL out of her system on Right.

**Reviews: **Danke to: **_JTBJAB_**, **_dubtheeunforgiven_** (The first of chap. 14 was my attempt at being poetic), **_TrinityDD_**, **_Aelimir_** (Is that right:D Characterization is the hardest thing when dealing with someone else's characters. Dialogue is the thing I stress about! The potions shall make a reappearance…), **_cdkobasiuk_**, **_zeusfluff/Maria_**, **_Gecko149 _**(It's all good.), **_Smiles28_**, **_Kyppie_**, and **_Ruby Malfoy _**(Feel free to add my story, I'd like that! Is it Voldie's? Hmmm…that is still a mystery… /cackles)

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**Last Chapter:** He was silently thanking whoever had invented the potions he took earlier as Hermione patted his hand. She said, "If there is anything I can do for you, Remus, I will."

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Hermione rummaged silently in the bathroom cupboard. _Where did I put those? _She pushed aside some miscellaneous bottles, getting on tiptoe in order to see into the very back. _Ah hah! _Triumphantly, she reached as far as she could and grabbed a box of Muggle band-aids.

She peeled off the backing and carefully wrapped it around her left index finger. The last band-aid had met an untimely demise during dishwashing last night. Her small paper cut probably did not still need medical attention, but the injury had bled a fairly good amount of time. Hermione looked at her bandaged finger. _Who knew parchment was so dangerous? _She hoped neither Harry nor Ron noticed the bit of it on their letter. It had barely been a drop when she put it in the envelope.

A return had yet to come, but Dumbledore had written that something had preoccupied them all and one would come soon. Her parents also had not responded to her letter. That was more understandable. Being Muggles, neither had knowledge about how to deal with owl post and Hermione had neglected in telling them. She sighed softly at the thought of her parents and friends. They still did not know. Mentally she shook that from her head, declaring to herself that bridge would be crossed eventually and she had a much more important one at the moment, Remus.

Leaving the bathroom, she stood out in front of his room for about the millionth time that morning. He had yet to come out or even show signs of stirring, much less signs of even being in the room. For the millionth time, she resisted the urge to break down the door. Last night, he asked her to not enter and she was going to honor that promise. The barriers on Hermione's side were down. The sun had barely risen before Hermione rushed to unlock the door.

She sifted from one foot to the other. _Would it be noon before he came down? _Her mind tried to reason with her. _He knows what he is doing. He's been through this before and he'll get around as he has always done. Stop worrying! _Feeling her resolve to keep her promise waning even after trying to whole-heartedly convince herself otherwise, Hermione shuffled to her room before she let herself do something she was not supposed to do.

Randomly, she picked up a book off her bedside table, planning to read to occupy her mind, and went down the stairs, avoiding a look at Remus' door. Hermione flopped down on the sofa. She glanced at the book's title, _The Magic of Being Pregnant_. She let out an angered sigh. _I just had to pick one of these up didn't I_, she thought. _Might as well start where I left off_.

She took out her bookmarker from about one-fourth of the way in. Barely reading half of the first page, her mind began to wander. It wandered back to the same thought that had plagued her all last night. _Damn it, Remus, let somebody in for once. You don't have to be alone all the time. _Hermione could only imagine what the next six months would be like if he continued persisting that.

Hermione redirected herself back to the book, but reading was futile at this point. Her eyes began to grow heavy, sleep had not come easy last night and she did not know at what time she finally dropped off. The eerie silence of the house plus a certain professor's words had helped keep her up, not to mention his contribution, the one he was certain could be of use. _Bloody idiot_, she thought sleepily, _I didn't need your knife and I won't ever will. Just because you don't like Remus, doesn't mean that he'd… _

She curled up on the couch, letting the book fall to the floor. …_do any harm. _Some guilt consumed her before she finally nodded off in sleep, because last night she had unlocked the drawer and stared mesmerized at the snakes on the dagger's handle until she felt they were looking accusingly back at her then had hastily shoved it back into its hiding spot.

Unlike the couch Hermione was laying on, the wood flooring of the upstairs was hard and smooth. Remus could feel the cold of it seeping into his body and he knew he had to get up. Shakily, he pressed his palms against the floor and tried to push himself up. For a moment he rose then, his arms gave out and he crashed back to the floor. He tried not to groan in case Hermione could her him, but he groggily remembered about his soundproofing spell. The incantation was a one-way deal. Remus, though not completely conscious, could hear her stopping, standing, and pacing outside his door. _Thank Merlin she did not come in_, he thought.

Remus did not need to see himself to know he was not in a presentable state. He did not want her to have an image of him in this condition. Breathing as deep as he could manage, he raised himself to his knees and used his bed to help stabilize him as he stood.

Achingly, he dressed, trying not to dwell on the new wounds that had appeared. Blood stood out on his desk's edge. He lifted a hand to touch his forehead, recalling last night. The brilliant red liquid stood out on his hand and he could fairly guess all over the gash he received. When the unrelenting seizures started, he usually moved away from the furniture in the room, but last night they had hit too fast without warning for him.

He tested his limbs before making his way toward the door. The swaying feeling had started to evaporate, though he still looked like a man just coming off a boat onto dry land. He swung the door open jerkily with a stiff arm. Remus grasped the doorway for support and glanced around the upper floor. No Hermione in sight, he proceeded to the bathroom, wanting to clean up, hoping to look more presentable, trying to hide what the monster did.

Upon entering the bathroom, he could immediately tell she had been in there recently. His wolf was still very much present and with the potions out of his system, his senses were running acutely. He looked into the mirror over the sink. His image reflected back one word, _bloody_, and in both meanings of it. A four-inch cut glared back at him from the mirror along with a few miscellaneous cuts and bruises that paled in comparison to that one.

The Muggle band-aids on the sink would be pointless for it, but he lingered on them. Hermione had used them. _What for? _his now pounding head pondered. He rubbed his temples, hoping for relief. Later he would wonder about that, right now he need to address his problem. Remus opened up the cupboard to the right of the mirror. He grasped two vials through his pained vision that appeared to be what he was looking for. Still unsteady, he watched them drop to the floor and he learned another lesson in Potions. Do not mix them.

Hermione jumped awake from a considerable boom. She sat bolt up right on the sofa, grasped her wand, and then took a quick look around. Nothing out of the ordinary. Quickly, she got up off the couch and nearly tripped over her book on the way to the stairs. "Remus?" she called out tentatively.

She heard a faint utter from above her.

For a woman in her condition and stature, Hermione made good time on the stairs, bounding up them with a burst of surprising speed. As soon as she step on the landing, she could see directly into the end room where a doubled over Remus sat.

"Dear lord, Remus. What happened? Are you all right?" she said advancing on the open doorway.

The sight did not look all right at all. A scorch mark stood out on the floor littered with bits of broken glass. Remus sat comatose on the edge of the tub, looking as though he had been knocked there. A huge cut stood out on his pale and bruised face.

"Oh…Remus," she whispered and walked toward him.

"The glass," he said hoarsely and pointed to the floor. "Don't step on the glass."

"It's okay." A quick repairing spell and the vials whipped back together and sat rolling on the floor. Hermione paid them no attention. She crouched down in front of Remus whose face hung toward the floor, eyes closed. "What happened?"

"Let's just say," he opened his eyes resignedly, "I'm not good at being a doctor."

She moved some stray hair away from his forehead. "That's a nasty cut, looks pretty deep. I'm not too good at being a doctor either, but I think I can mend it decently enough."

He tensed under her fleeting touch; such a feeling had become foreign to him. His body was already so stiff from the transformation and its lasting effects that it could barely be noticed. His throbbing mind recalled his resolution to keep her as much out of the full moon as possible. Mentally he called himself a fool for such thoughts. A snide voice from the back added, _Can't hide your true nature, at least not from someone who's going to be around you all the time, can you? _Inwardly, he growled, _Get out of my head, Severus. Damn you, I'm trying to keep her away!_

Remus, knowing that any attempt to keep Hermione out by this time would do more harm than good, only nodded to her. She looked him over one more time before gathering the vials on the floor. "Headache and antiseptic," she stated to herself, reading the labels. She carefully took two of the same from the cabinet plus a few more.

"Here," she handed the yellow one to him. "This will help with your headache."

After he had taken some, she assessed the cut. She poured the antiseptic on a cloth and pulled his face closer to her. "This is going to sting a bit," she said gently. Delicately, she started to wipe away the outer edges of the cut, working her way in. The farther she went, the more Remus grimaced. When she actually touched the cut, he let out a quick gasp of pained air.

Hermione drew back the rag. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"It's all right. Keep going," he replied. Her face once again took on the look of tender concentration as she continued. He was trying to look anywhere but at her. Never had anybody ever concerned themselves with him like this after a full moon.

"Now, I'm going to bandaged it up." She unwound some gauze from the cupboard along with some tape. As she worked on his bandage, she asked, "How's your head feeling?"

At this distance, she was overloading his senses, all he could see, hear, and smell. "I barely feel anything now."

She brightened at that. "That's good. Hopefully, my bandage will last until Madam Pomfrey comes. Last night, I got a message that she would be coming by in a week or so to check on me and I guess you, too now."

Hermione's eyes had widened at the mention of Pomfrey's visiting checkup. Remus caught her wrist as she moved to collect the materials off the floor. "You'll do fine," he said.

She nodded to herself. "I hope so." Hermione expression became contemplative a moment before she snapped back to what she was doing. "Here," she uncorked a different vial, "it's a strength potion. Only take a little or else you'll be taking off doors." He took a sip and then another at her prompting.

"Do you think you can stand now?"

He pushed off the tub and stood, but his knees were not yet up to par. They were starting to give way. Hermione swiftly got to his side to support him. "I'm putting you back to bed." She started to lead him toward his room.

"Doesn't look like I have a choice," said Remus, finally giving up and letting her help hold him up.

She opened his door. "You don't and don't even think about getting up anytime soon either. I've got a sleeping potion and I'm not afraid to use it."

Releasing him from her grip, she aided him sitting on the bed. She pulled back the sheets and comforter then watched as he laboriously slipped in. A dark stain on the edge of the desk grabbed her attention. "Is this where?" and she touched the corner of his bandage.

"Yeah," he said, trying to ignore the contact. "It got in the way last night."

A prod of the wand and the blood was gone. "I'll do something about the desk later. You need to rest." Another wave accompanied by a swish, the curtains drew closed, and the room became dim. Her darkened figure stood above, hesitantly. Then a warm hand touched his face, followed by a pair of lips on his forehead next to his wound. Her muted voice said into his ear, "Sleep well."

With that, Hermione hastily turned away to the door and left, leaving Remus to lay in the dark alone with his thoughts, not that any of them made much sense at the moment.


	16. Silently the Snow Descends

**AN:** Wow…a lot of pity for Remus in the last chapter. Perhaps I should be nicer…naw…then this wouldn't be a 'drama.'

**Disclaimer:** Tengo nada a mi nombre. Pues…unos boligrafos y un zapato pero que es!

**Reviews: **/hug – **_Jay_**, **_InfinityEstel_**, **_Radingsouls4u_ (**Who knows how the little one will turn out? Think if Voldie becomes the mentor…), **_zeusfluff_**, **_Entr'acte Sprite _(**The dagger is pretty sinister. I love it:D The father shall be brought up next chapter.), **_Smiles28_**, **_cdkobasiuk_**, **_Gecko149_ (**Has someone been saying stuff about my fics? Well do what you need to, just don't get caught. ;)), and **_Aelimir _(**Snape is the greatest to write. So nasty! He will return also in the next chapter…I might keep him off Remus.)

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**Last Chapter:** A snide voice from the back added, _Can't hide your true nature, at least not from someone who's going to be around you all the time, can you? _Inwardly, he growled, _Get out of my head, Severus. Damn you, I'm trying to keep her away!_

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An overcast sky hung above the outside world. All of nature, the part that could still be seen on the rare occasion, watched and waited silently in the frigid cold for the clouds' promise to be fulfilled. However, they were not the only ones sitting in silence, waiting. The inhabitants of the still, deceivingly empty looking house they passed by often stood in an unnatural quiet. Such a blanket, a mute shroud over the place made the house seem stiff with it and unequivocally forced. Unfortunately, once a mind is made, it is hard to turn it back, even if it feels at fault. Sometimes the mind reasoned that the worst would be for the best with the head overruling the heart. A different waiting had begun and stronger forces were at work than anything in nature.

The visit from Madam Pomfrey certainly broke the silence as efficiently as a hammer to a piece of glass. She arrived in hustling bustle and a flurry of starch white matron dress. A woman like her did not go around mollycoddling unless it was justly deserved but she did give a fuss over Hermione. Her voice could easily be heard as she slammed down her formidable black bag and said, "What are doing standing up! You are in a very delicate state. Lie on the bed now – easy does it. Here let me get you another pillow!"

Instantly Hermione complied. One did not go against Pomfrey or else they would find themselves on the receiving end of a particularly nasty tasting potion. The older woman buzzed back in with a pillow confiscated from Remus' room. Pomfrey shoved it behind Hermione's head and she felt herself sink into it. The pillow smelled of Remus: his aftershave, the outdoors, and a slightly smoky aroma. Hermione wondered where he was exactly at the moment. Over the past week, he had been making himself scarce ever since the full moon. Now was no exception.

As if reading her mind, Pomfrey asked, "And where is Remus? He knows I like to check him over after a full moon."

"Well," said Hermione, watching apprehensively as Pomfrey unpacked a long, pointy object, "he said he would be in town for a bit. When he comes back, you really need to look at a cut on his forehead. I tried my best at it but I think it needs some professional aid."

"Surprised he even let you do anything to it. That man has to have been my worst patient. Absolutely hates to have a fuss made over him, especially anything to do with his condition." She shook her head as if recalling past instances. "Don't be surprised if he doesn't let you in the future. Took him years to get used to me," she paused to take Hermione's pulse. "Can't imagine why. I'm a very skilled and gentle nurse!"

Pomfrey emphasized her last statement with a swift prod to her patient's arm, which left Hermione rubbing the tender spot. _Can't even imagine why anybody would want to escape that tender loving care_, she thought sardonically. The matron's attention was now on her wand, reading the ticker tape that was spurting from the end after the prod. She murmured and frowned slightly as she read it. Finally, she ripped the end off and turned her gaze back to Hermione.

"It seems," she started, "that your body is in excellent health, although I do advise you – after seeing this –," she held up the tape, "that you try and stay away from spicy foods. Your stomach is listed as disagreeable."

That earned a quizzical look. Would she next hold her head to Hermione's various organs and converse with them to see if they had any complaints? Perhaps, Madam Pomfrey was having an off day today or maybe it was the journey by Disappearing Dust. Hermione had begun to hope desperately that Remus would appear so she would not have to go through this alone even if he did not say anything.

"Seeing how you're in good health, let's now get down to the real matter of business." Pomfrey brought around the vanity chair and sat in it then brought out a sheet of parchment and quill. Her back was turned from the door. "How is everything going? Having any problems? Discomforts?"

Hermione shook her head. "No. Everything has been going fine except for some nausea here and there." As she finished, she looked up to see Remus poking his head around the door and looking intently into room.

"So you haven't experienced any body aches, heartburn, bleeding, or breast tenderness?"

At that point, Remus had promptly removed his head from the door and Hermione's steady gaze, which was highly misleading as she was trying not to laugh. Not as though Pomfrey noticed any of the exchange since she was not facing the door or Remus' slightly embarrassed expression. Her eyes looking over her glasses demanded an answer.

"Oh," Hermione half stuttered and half laughed, aware that Remus still stood outside the door, "well, maybe just a little of those, yes, but nothing really serious. I mean nothing that has warranted any special treatment."

"That's good." Madam Pomfrey nodded as she took notes. "All those should be starting to lessen since you are now going into your second trimester and the fourth month. Even better news is that you're out of the most potentially dangerous part; you can rest easier."

Hermione looked down at her hands as the quill continued to scratch across the page. When she looked up, Remus had actually entered the room this time, assuming the conversation had returned to much more safer topics. His face was redden from the cold and wind along with what happened earlier. Tousled brown hair stuck out in odd places and he waited patiently for Pomfrey to finish before saying, "Hello, Poppy. Nice to have you drop by."

"There you are Remus. You look well, though Miss Granger informed me about your cut. Here sit down on the bed," she stood up and then sat him down beside Hermione, "and I'll fix you up."

She had returned to her black bag and stuck her arm down into it so that the entire limb had disappeared up to her shoulder. Apparently, whatever she need she had packed on bottom.

Remus turned to Hermione and whispered low to her, "She didn't sit me down on you, did she?"

"No," she grinned faintly, "you're fine. Better you have her attention than me."

With that, the matron came back with gauze soaked in something turquoise and her wand out. "Hold this on it for exactly two minutes," she handed the gauze to Remus, "and then I'll mend it up. So," she looked back at the girl sitting up in the bed, "have you been reading any of the medical books Dumbledore sent along?"

"I've read some in them, but I'm not finished."

That earned her a tsk-tsk. "You need to read as much of them as you can. These next few months will be your easiest, so enjoy them because the third trimester is not a trifle." Seeing Hermione's expression, she quickly added, "No need to really worry, dear, that's when you'll gain most of your weight for the pregnancy."

"Has it been two minutes yet, Poppy?" asked Remus. "This is sort of starting to sting."

She looked down at her watch. "Goodness me it's been four minutes. Take that off this instant! I need to close that up." She firmly held Remus' head in her hand to keep him from moving and pointed her wand directly at the cut. A few words and the now blue-tinged gash grew in towards itself. It only left a fine thin line after it was done.

"There," she glowed down at her work, "you'll have a faint scar since it was not treated right away."

"Thanks," said Remus, trying to flatten his hair over his forehead. "I'll let you get back to where you were." Believing he was done, he rose from the bed, leaving only a warm spot and slight indention where he had been. He returned to stand in the doorway.

"I won't be much longer. I don't want to over exert you on my first visit," she directed the last part to Hermione. Pomfrey sat back down and took up her paper once again.

"Although you'll gain the most later, you'll still start wearing the maternity we sent along. I tried to keep them from looking too frumpy for you."

Hermione said, "I've already seen them. They're very nice."

Pomfrey looked pleased at this news. "Did you find the undergarments also? You'll want to especially changeover to one of the bras that I sent because - as I'm sure you've already felt the soreness – you will be getting larger there, also."

Remus had suddenly found something very interesting on his shirtfront. He started picking at the seams and buttons. Madam Pomfrey obviously did not care who or what heard what she was discussing whether they wanted to hear it or not.

"Okay, I'll keep that in mind," assured Hermione, thinking all the while if this could get anymore embarrassing. "I've been wondering, Madam Pomfrey, when do we – I mean – when do I get to find out whether it is a boy or girl?"

"Oh you want to know. Well," she paused in thought, "I'm afraid we're going to have to save that until next month. Alright, dear? I've already overstayed this time; they'll be missing me soon at the ward. Before I go, I have a calendar so you can keep track of the time and how far along you are."

She handed Hermione the calendar, which had moving pictures of serene outdoor scenes, trees in the wind and rippling lakes. "You'll be due around the middle of June, dear. And here's some letters and a package Dumbledore asked me to send along." She pulled a shiny box from within her bag and a few envelopes. Hermione eagerly grabbed at them.

"Thanks for bringing me my mail and for coming by."

"It was nothing. Now is there anything else I need to tell you?" She looked at Remus as if he held the answer and he must have because her face took on the look of idea and said, "If you have any trouble sleeping, get an extra pillow to hug, cradle or anything else you can grab." She glanced toward the door before shutting her bag.

"Don't worry," said Remus with a grin. "She's already taken one of my pillows, not just taken, she stole it."

"And you'll let her keep it if you're a gentleman!"

Now out of Madam Pomfrey's stare, Hermione got to her feet. "I thought you were asleep. I didn't think you'd miss it too terribly."

"And you are not too terribly good at sneaking around," he put in.

"Well," interrupted Pomfrey, "I really must be off. I'll send word of my next visit. Keep out of trouble until then and a very merry Christmas to you both." With that, she evaporated into thin air.

"I've a few things down stairs that I need to put up," said Remus, breaking the ever-present silence. "I'll leave you to your mail then."

Absentmindedly, Hermione nodded and said, "Okay. I'll be down in a bit." However, she was completely engrossed in the parcels that sat in her lap. She did not even notice as Remus lingered at the doorway, before shaking his head and leaving. The quickly scrawled 'Hermione' in Harry's handwriting would not release her gaze.

She opened up the brightly papered package first. Inside, lay her first Christmas gifts: assorted candies from Ron, a book _Inside the Mummy's Magic_ from Harry, and at the bottom, the one that started her vision to go bleary, was from her parents. They had sent a Muggle photograph of the three of them, neatly framed in wood. Each had a fixed laughing expression on their faces as the posed in front of the French coastline. Through her tears, Hermione couldn't help but smile; right before that was snapped, a seagull had tried to take off with her father's toupee, which he always denied having.

Hermione moved her knitting to the floor and gently placed the picture on her bedside table along with her other presents. She skipped Harry's letter and opened the other envelope that was from her parents. Inside, they asked how she was doing, if everything was going alright now, and when she'd be able to come home. Dumbledore still had not breathed or written a word. Feeling relieved, she opened up the one from her two best friends and immediately felt sick.

_To be direct Hermione, I've had a vision, but this one came after touching something on your letter. It was your blood, wasn't it? In the vision, there was woman; she was giving a prophecy. Does this have something to do with you? And if it does, what's all this with Voldemort? You know you can tell us anything _–

Numbly, she stopped reading; another slip of paper had caught her attention. Pulling it out, Dumbledore's loopy writing fanned out on the page, _You will be able to leave the grounds soon. I'll send more information later. What happened was out of my control. I've said nothing_. Hermione shoved them back in their envelopes before putting them in the top drawer. She would deal with those later. She had told Remus she would be down soon.

Upon hearing Hermione's footsteps on the stairs, Remus frantically looked for a hiding place. Not for himself, but a particular package that he had picked up. Hastily, he opened the closest thing to him, the oven, and slid it in right as she stepped into view.

"Are you baking something?" she asked, looking around him at the oven.

"Uh…well…not at the moment, but I picked up some items incase the urge hit."

Quite a few bags sat scattered around the kitchen. Hermione regarded them silently without really seeing them. She seemed distracted by something. He picked up a bag at his feet and took out another bag. "I picked up some popcorn like you asked and there are some cranberries around here some place."

That seemed to perk her up a bit. "Good. We can string it up later after we get a tree. Unless of course you don't want to – I mean – this is all business for you."

The last remark stung Remus. Officially, it was business and he admitted to himself that he had been trying recently to make it even more so. "It's no trouble. All work and no play make Jack a dull boy or rather it makes him a Severus. We can go right now if you want, though we're going to have to find you some other clothes than those. It's going to snow soon."

Hermione looked down at her sleeping attire that she had worn the better part of the day. So maybe she was not dressed for the cold. She shuffled out and up to her room where she made it a point not to look at the table. Back in the kitchen, Remus waited with another pair of his boots she could wear. It took another pair of socks to keep from flying off. Remus pushed his knitted cap on her head, saying she needed more than he did. They stepped out into the softly falling snowflakes.

Talk of snow had not been idle. By the late afternoon, a few good inches clung to the ground and tree branches. Luckily, for Remus, his chopping skills had not let him down nor his arms or legs since he had been the one dragging the tree into the house. He had levitated it half way there before smacking it into another tree and deciding perhaps that was not the safest way to move it. Nevertheless, a stout fir tree stood in the front room, now half decorated.

Hermione had taken over popping the popcorn on the stove after Remus became distracted by making stars on the tree glow and left the kernels to burn. The tree already looked complete with a few makeshift garlands, magically glowing objects, and the odd little ornament Remus had picked up while out that day, but it was not a tree without a popcorn string, according to Hermione.

"My parents and I always made a string and put it on the tree. That's what they had to use when they were young. How did your mum do hers?"

Remus began helping thread on the pieces of popcorn. "Mum was a half-blood so I guess this is about what hers would have looked like. Half magical and half Muggle, though she started to lean more magical as the years went on. Dad never really liked the strange things she used to put on the tree, so when he left she liberated our Christmas tree."

"Your mum sounds very nice, Remus. I would have liked a chance to meet her."

"I'm positive she would have said the same of you."

With both of them working on the string, it was soon finished and ready to hang. Hermione grinned at the finished product, no longer looking forlorn about where she was for the holiday, away from her family and Hogwarts. Remus wanted to join in the elation, but he kept trying to tell himself not to be caught up in it. _Business, full moon, business, full moon…_he repeated until it started to become something of a mantra.

Hermione, who finished admiring the hasty handwork that was the tree, retreated into the kitchen and announced she might bake some cookies. This broke Remus from his brainwashing and into a scramble toward the kitchen. Calling to her over the opening of cabinet doors, he said, "Maybe I need to check the oven to see if it's working properly."

Flour in one hand and sugar in the other, Hermione paused half way toward the counter. "Wasn't it working the other day? Unless something happened to it I don't know about, it should be all right."

"That's just it." Remus edged his way toward the oven. "I'll just check it to be sure." He tried to look innocent has he opened the door and bent over to look into the oven. Looking over his shoulder, Hermione's back was to him. Quickly, he took out his wand, shrunk the package, and stuffed it into his pocket.

With a grin, he straightened up. "All looks well."

She glanced up from the bowl she was measuring ingredients into. Flour already clung to her face and Remus resisted the urge to wipe it off. "That's good, though I can't think of what could have been wrong."

"Ah," he shuffled toward the stairs, "it never hurts to be prepared for anything." He left her with a bemused expression and even more baffled thoughts.

The smell of baked goods still hung ever so faintly in the air or maybe it was just Hermione's stomach playing tricks on her. She stared out the window from her lying position on her bed. The stars were starting to become fainter as the day approached. A lumpy package stood out in relief against the dim glow from the outside. Next to it lay crumpled pieces of parchment, rejections. Sleep had not been in her room last night.

Letters had been penned and were ready to send. One for Hogwarts and one for home. She had tried to write them so they would understand something of what was going on, but everything kept being twisted together. Finally, all she could do was be painfully blunt and straightforward. She longed to see them all, especially at the moment. But Hermione kept telling herself she had someone and she was not alone. If that were so, why did she feel like she was, even when he was in the room? What had happened?

Her thoughts drove her downstairs with her present and to the shadow she had been thinking of.

An outline sat on the couch already when she came down the stairs. Remus looked up to see her come down. Her pale nightgown floated as she stepped and with the light behind her, she looked like a angel descending upon the world and Remus suddenly felt unworthy. As she drew closer, he noticed she was a forlorn angel. She hugged an object close to her.

"What are you doing up?" she asked softly as if afraid to break the morning's stillness.

"Couldn't sleep," answered Remus. He moved over so she could have plenty of room to sit down. She sat right next to him.

Her fingers played with edges of her improvised wrapping paper. "Me either. Do you want your present now or do you want to wait until later?"

"Now is fine. Let me get yours first though." He rose, stoked the fire, and returned from the tree with a neatly wrapped box.

They swapped gifts and both said, "You go first," as the same time. After a bit, Remus consented to open his first. He ripped the paper easily and inside lay a knitted navy blue sweater. He ran his fingers over the top before giving Hermione a grateful smile. "Thanks."

She bit her lower lip, thoughtfully. "I hope it fits you. I didn't have any measurements to go on."

"Let's see then," said Remus as he began to slip it over his t-shirt.

Unfortunately, his head could not go through the top. Hermione leaned in to help pull the collar down. The back was the most stubborn. Mentally, she swore at herself for drawing it up too much. Her arms enclosed his neck, as she finally was able to tug enough that his head popped out. His face appeared suddenly from the blue folds, so near that Hermione was staring directly into his gray eyes. "Merry Christmas," was all she could breathe out as she started to remove herself from his neck.

Remus felt her breath on his cheek as she moved away and cupped her face before she had a chance to settle back, and then hesitated. She looked at him expectantly. He faltered too long in that moment and only brought her forehead to his lips. For a moment, he thought he saw disappointment in her eyes, but he knew that was foolish. Who was he kidding even thinking she thought of him in such a way? He relented to himself as he handed her his gift that his plan was not working as he hoped. They were not supposed to get this close. He was a ancient werewolf and she…she…deserved better.

Her fingers expertly opened the tape and the box lid. Inside lay a bound book with a clasp and embossed at the top it simply said Hermione. She flipped through the pages; they were all milky white and blank. A small smile crossed her face before she gave him a quick hug with a thank you.

"I thought you might like something to confide in that wasn't a dry, old professor. Merry Christmas, Hermione."


	17. Cracking Under Pressure

**AN:** Reviews have hit the triple digits…HECK YES! (As Napoleon would say) My formatting keeps going wonky! GAH! Oh...and it was brought to my attention that perhaps I should plug my other HG/RL stories since...well...maybe you'd like it too. My other HG/RL is Beauty and the Beast, a lighter tale than this one!

**Disclaimer:** (I swear this is the last one of these I'm doing) No…nope…nada…nein…etc.

**Reviews: _venusrose _**(Umm…I'm sorry:D), **_ponyboyluver_**, **_Led-Zeppelin-Jr_** (A bit of Hogwarts in this chapter for you.), **_Ruby Malfoy _**(Pomfrey is a bit blunt, but the poor dear can't help it.), **_CapnSilver_**, **_Lady Norkstar_**, **_Carpetfibers _**(Oh wow…a feast of compliments for which I thank you!), **_Gecko149_**, **_dubtheeunforgiven _**(Arg? Sounds piratey, anyway, Remus gets his due, just wait.) , **_megzzy6688_**, **_Smiles28_**, and **_Aelimir_** (One of my faithful reviewers! Yes, the package was Mione's gift. Good eye…I forgot to connect the two. The father shall be revealed soon…)

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**Last Chapter: **For a moment, he thought he saw disappointment in her eyes, but he knew that was foolish. Who was he kidding even thinking she thought of him in such a way?

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A knock on the door reverberated around the chilly, quiet room. Being the lowest level of dungeons at Hogwarts, the cold was understandable accompanied with the fact several inches of ice had glazed the earth. No answer came from the room. The solitary man sat in an uncomfortable chair (in his opinion) behind a desk, which had two chairs sitting on the opposite side. The person at the door was not who he was waiting for. Another knock came. Indifferently, he called out, "Come in."

In scurried a set of house elves, each going through a barrage of curtsies and bows, which took some skill since they carried an entire tea tray. "Master Malfoy, we has brought the tea you was asking for," said one in a particularly squeaky voice, attempting to avoid the man's eye contact. "Where would you be liking us to place it, sir?"

"Put it on the desk and build a fire while you're down here. One should have already been roaring, waiting on me but apparently Dumbledore has let the service here slide considerably."

Trembling, they placed the tray on top of some papers before two went over to the fireplace leaving the other to the man's bidding. "Would you be liking the tea poured?"

"No, I won't need your services any longer after the fire is tended to and no one is to be sent to check on this room or told I'm here. No one. Do you understand?"

Heat from the fireplace began creeping its way through the room along with the glow that now illuminated the eerie specimens floating in jars sitting on the shelves. The house elves in their uniforms nodded their bowed heads, murmuring "Yes, sir"s.

"Good," said Lucius curtly. "Now get out."

Amusedly he watched as they hurried out and shut the door behind them. Groveling house elves would never get old to him. He listened as their small footsteps became fainter and fainter to hear. He did not need one of them bursting back into the room, falling over itself because it had forgotten the crumpets or something equally trivial and ruining everything. Feeling secure that they had gone, he lifted up the teapot and started to pour.

Steam rose from the teacups as he hurriedly filled them to the top. He sat aside the teapot and drew one of the cups toward him. The other he left sitting on the edge facing the empty chairs opposite him. Deftly Lucius removed something from inside one of his numerous cloak pockets. The vial appeared to be empty; however, as it caught and refracted the light, a liquid could be seen, barely, since it was crystal clear. He paused to listen again. A faint sound made its way down the hall. Quickly he uncorked the bottle and poised it over the other cup…the steps were right outside the door now…no knock came, instead the door was flung open to reveal a…

…very windblown Severus Snape with his collar turned up and clutching a handful of something leafy and green. He regarded the man sitting in _his_ chair with a mix of surprise and a look in his eyes as frigid as the weather. Lucius gave him an equally chilly smile and shifted his hand so that the vial slid farther up his sleeve. _How did he manage such impeccable timing? _thought the blonde man. Inwardly he sighed. He always ended up doing everything the hard way.

Snape, still holding whatever it was in his hand, wordlessly shut the door behind him. Underneath the desk, Lucius positioned his wand at the door. He only needed a moment; he only needed him distracted briefly.

"Lucius, I wasn't expecting you. Surely, this isn't a social visit. What does Volde-" The last part of Snape's question was cut off by Lucius bringing his index finger to his lips and shaking his head.

"Shut the door," he said edgily. He slipped his wand safely into his pocket and pointed with his other hand at the now slightly ajar door behind Snape.

Keeping the bewilderment from his face, Snape backtracked to push the door closed. Only looking down once then never removing his eyes from Snape's back, he slipped out the vial and poured only a few drops into the other teacup. By the time Snape had turned back around, Lucius was already dropping sugar cubes into his own cup.

"You're right," began Lucius as Snape took a seat across from him, "this isn't social. Master sent me to ask what progress you're making on finding our precious little Mudblood."

"Dumbledore doesn't tell me much," began Snape. He put the plant down next to the china cup. "It may be a few more weeks until I can get something we can work with."

"Is that Wolfsbane?" Lucius nodded down at the greenery with its purple flowers. "Must be for something important for you to walk to the greenhouses with the weather being like it is. Have a cup of tea to warm you up before we discuss any further."

"It's for a demonstration in my lower classes." He declined the sugar Lucius was now offering to him. "I like my plain."

_Demonstration, indeed_, thought Lucius. Idly, he watched as Snape lifted his cup up to his lips and…paused. The darker-haired man seemed to be thinking then actually glanced down at the tea. _He can't…not even Severus Snape is that good…_However, his fears quickly evaporated as the Potions Master only asked if the tea was Earl Grey or not. Lucius nodded, took a sip from his own cup, and waited.

Snape brought the cup to his lips and tilted it a bit. Eagerly, Lucius watched as the other swallowed the liquid down. The breaking of china as the cup slipped to shatter on the floor did not cause him to jump nor did he even pause from the drink he was taking as Snape's body slumped in the chair.

"Sorry it had to come to this Severus, but the Dark Lord doesn't quite believe you when you say Dumbledore isn't telling. After all those Cruciatus curses, you'd think your loyalties would stay put. Now," Lucius stared at Snape's slack face and glazed eyes, "can you hear me, Severus?"

"Yes," answered Snape in a monotone.

"What has Dumbledore told you about the location of Hermione Granger?" Lucius leaned forward on his elbows to listen better.

"He told me," said Snape and stopped.

The blonde man nodded his head. "He told you what?"

Snape faintly smiled before saying, "He told me where she is and I've been there. I've seen her."

Lucius started to feel his patience already wearing thin. Even under a potion, Snape was still evasive. "Where is he keeping her? Is she under the Fidelius Charm?"

"She's in a house. He protected it with the charm so no one can find it."

"Did Dumbledore write anything down so you could find this house?" persisted Lucius.

"Yeah," answered Snape dazedly, his mouth hung open a bit. "I've got it right here in my pocket." He reached into his robes and pulled out a well-worn piece of paper.

"Give it to me," softly demanded Lucius and snatched it out of Snape's hand. He read over the curved loopy handwriting and smirked at the incapacitated man as he stuck the paper safely in his own robes.

"Well the Dark Lord was right about you, Severus; you do have your uses after all. I didn't believe him for the longest time, but it's too bad you couldn't have given him this information willingly. You could have been a top Death Eater." Snape blinked; he was beginning to come out from his stupor. Lucius had what he needed anyway. "One last question, were you the one who smuggled the Mudblood out?"

Snape's mouth had closed and his eyes were starting to focus. He had come back too far, Lucius realized, for him to answer anymore. _Master will torture that answer out of him before he kills Severus. Too bad it couldn't have been me to do the job_. He rose from his chair, dusted off his robes, and picked up the Wolfsbane. As he passed the fire, he threw it into the flames. Hand on the door, he turned to look at the other man still slumped in the chair. The memory potion mixed in the Veritaserum would take care of any fleeting memories Snape might have. All the Potions Master would remember was falling asleep in front of his office fire while having tea. A triumphantly wicked smiled played on Lucius' lips as he made his way down the hall into the dark.

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Shadows moved slowly across the wall as heavy clouds skirted the night sky. Hermione had been watching them for a while now or at least she felt she had been staring for a long time. Instinctively, she reached over at her bedside table's top drawer to open it. She quickly withdrew her hand, remembering that it was empty of what she wanted. Remus had taken away her Dreamless Sleep Potion.

Her room illuminated briefly as the moon reappeared and reflected off the ice outside, courtesy of a late January storm. She snuggled down deeper under the covers, convincing herself to sleep, but every time she closed her eyes everyone reappeared in that horrific dream and recently a new person she did not know emerged, a woman her face masked by hair, advancing on her.

Hermione sat up again, pulling the covers around her bare shoulders. Her door looked back at her and if it had been opened, Remus' door would have looked just as taunting. He had taken away her potion that she had come to rely on to get sleep. She knew it was not to be taken the in amounts she had been, but she did not really care. Remus explained that she could become dependent on it and even suffer major health risks even to the baby. He had told her gently as he cleared out her stash that if she should ever need him in the night for any reason, all she had to do was walk across the hall and wake him. He would be more than willingly to stay up with her until she dozed back off.

Instead of doing as he had asked, Hermione picked up her new diary. The full moon had only been a little over a week ago and Remus had once again had a potion mishap, though not as serious as the first two. Just as Pomfrey had predicted, he refused any help from her both times. Hermione kept telling herself he needed all the sleep he could get and she need not disturb him. She thought she had been making a breakthrough recently, but Remus was as stubborn as he was kind. Sometimes she felt like he wanted someone close but then he decided against it. The man was an anomaly. Sighing, she opened her diary to its last entry.

I was able to produce a faint, wispy Patronus today, but I can't seem to make a form. Remus says it takes practice and not to get discouraged. Maybe my memory isn't happy enough. Madam Pomfrey popped up right in the middle of one of my attempts. Needless to say, she wasn't too happy about that, and well I wasn't too happy to see her, but I guess that's not true. I wanted to know yet…I didn't. Harry and Ron's recent letter of support and condolences made me want them here even more, even if they did see me in such a state. 

She performed a quick wizard ultrasound. Thankfully, Remus didn't leave me to it alone; he held my hand as she did it. Cheerfully, she announced that it was a boy. I don't know how I should feel. I'm wearing the dreadful maternity clothes now and whenever I look down, I think It's a boy. He's my boy and someone else's and that's what scares me the most. Even more than the prospect of picking out a name, which Pomfrey thrust upon me in the form of a book. What to Name Your Magical One is endless. I'd never thought about names before, not that I ever expected to so early. 

Not to mention Remus is no help in that department, but he has other stuff on his plate like the full moon. He's been edging away recently, and I think that's why. I don't know if he'll ever understand that I have no problem with his lycanthropy unlike most of the other people he has to encounter. He cannot help what happened to him. Why can't he– 

A sharp crack like the shot of a gun jolted her from her reading. Such sounds had been frequent since the thick coating of ice. Tree limbs could often be heard snapping off under the weight and tumbling to the ground. The sound startled her so that she jumped and snapped the diary shut. She was not going to sleep anytime soon. Wearily, she removed herself from the warmth of her covers to see if the other inhabitant of the house was having the same problem she was.

The sound of even breathing greeting her as she pushed open the door informed her that Remus was catching up on some much needed shut eye. His still form was on its side, curled up on the left of the bed. Softly she made her way toward him. He did not stir as she stood on the side farthest away from him, debating on how exactly to approach the situation. Seeing his tranquil face, she suddenly did not have the heart to wake him. Hermione rubbed her numbing shoulders. Maybe if I just sat here a bit, I'd relax some, she thought.

She eased herself gently down onto the bed's empty side. Her freezing legs she slipped under the comforter. Remus still had not moved but continued his steady breathing. Hermione wondered if he was just pretending like he had the other time when she had stolen his pillow. No, he would have said something by now.

She shivered; her upper body was not covered. Conceding, she slid further down into the covers. I'll only be here a moment. I just need to relax a little, just enough so I can get a few more hours of sleep. That's all. I won't be here when he wakes – But she did not finish that thought because she had drifted off to sleep.

Remus tightened his hold on his pillow. Brilliant sunlight was trying to shine through his closed lids and he drifted between sleep and wakefulness. About that time was when his brain registered something was wrong, different. His pillow was warm, had hair, an arm, and was softly breathing. Timidly, he opened his eyes. The supposed pillow he had been grasping turned out to be a sleeping Hermione Granger.

His arm held her around the waist while her arm was laying on top of his. He was within inches of her face and he could feel her heart faintly beating. How had this happened? Remus assured himself he had in fact went to sleep alone last night, but now he had somehow wrapped himself up in a woman to say the least and he had not had the pleasure of that in awhile. Of course, there is no pleasure here, he said to himself, as he looked her face over. Of course not.

Her dark lashes rested on her cheeks while her hair trailed like banner on the pillow and her shoulders. She was warm against him and looked so peaceful that he did not know whether or not he should wake her. Remus however did not get to make that decision since Hermione stirred and blinked sleepily at him on her own accord.

Instead of pulling away as he figured she would have done immediately upon finding herself in the arms of the likes of him, she said, "It's too cold," and then actually snuggled closer to him.

By this time, Remus did not know what to think, so he just laid there and let her get closer. She would regret anything later; they always regretted doing anything, anything with him. "It is cold," he answered. "Perhaps if I went downstairs and started a fire, then it would warm up some."

Surprisingly again, she murmured, "No, stay. You're warm, Remus." Her hand snaked its way to the back of his neck.

"Hermione," he began slowly, "I think –"

Both of her brown eyes trained in on his. They held a look that caused his stomach to drop and softly she cut off his sentence, "Remus, you think too much." With that, she pulled him closer and closed her eyes. Remus did not need to think as he met her lips. He moved his arm from her waist, lightly traced her arm until he found her hand. As the kiss deepened, he felt he would never be able to think properly again.

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Time was of the essence. The labyrinth of corridors and hallways were dim in between the randomly mounted torches. He kept his hood up as he walked, not looking at the various lackeys that went by. They were going the opposite direction he was. His arm still burned from being called just a few moments ago. He was not going to the meeting, but to the opposite end of the complex where he needed to get into a certain box. Snape quickened his pace.

He did not have much time. The information Malfoy would be presenting to Voldemort could only keep them away for a short period of time. As soon as they realized the information was false, he had to be far from here. Snape could not help but smirk at the thought of Malfoy. How stupid he was to believe he could pull such a thing on Severus Snape. Malfoy's quickly brewed Veritaserum had such a distinct odor even a first year could have smelled it. The symptoms had been easy to mimic and the fake information even easier to give.

The glint of a silver hand caused Snape to bend his head low to not be recognized. Peter Pettigrew scurried past, heeding his master's call like the little rat he was. Snape sneered at him in absolute revulsion. He had more reasons than anyone to find the piece of filth revolting. What had caused him to be so jumpy during his first visit with Hermione was the fear she would remember what Pettigrew had done to her. What Snape, thankfully, had walked in on.

After weeks of careful inspection, Snape had come upon Hermione's room by mistake. It had been an out of the way door stuck far back in the corner so that one's eye just skipped over it, not to mention it was on the lowest level. Cautiously, he had swung the door open and bit back curses from flying at what he saw. Hermione's prostrate form lying underneath Pettigrew's bulking weight. Even though somehow sedated, she had been struggling against him and whimpering slightly, both hands held back invisibly. Pettigrew's hands roamed eagerly over her gown and he seemed to be trying to get his trousers off. An icy statement from Snape had sent the rodent into a panic, rushing out the room, not even caring that the carefully monitored Snape had found the hiding place of the dark's new secret weapon. Later she had been discovered missing, and Snape had calmly walked the premises searching with the others, knowing she was miles away and gladly sent a few curses Pettigrew's way that caused him to fall flat on his face.

Snape resisted the urge yet again to curse Pettigrew to oblivion and continued walking deeper into the building. Soon he came upon a fork, took the left way, and stared at a dead end. A red-haired man leaned against the only door, which was at the very end. He regarded Snape indifferently, probably thinking him a stupid, new inductee who had lost his way.

"He's calling," said Snape, "and I've been sent to relieve you so you can go to the meeting."

"I was told to stay here and under no circumstances was to leave," replied the man gruffly.

"Did Lucius Malfoy tell you that? He's down in the meeting passing out drinks. It seems he doesn't want you to go." Snape kept in the shadows.

"Yeah," started the man, "it was Malfoy. He's passing out drinks, you say. Always thought he didn't like me, but I never thought he'd keep me away from a draft. You sure you want to stay?"

"I'll stay until you can get back," said Snape then added, "but don't be rushed."

"Alright. Thanks. You can keep this between us two. Can't you?" he asked as he was leaving.

Snape nodded under his hood. "Of course."

As the man disappeared down the hall from sight, Snape unlocked the door, slid in, and carefully shut it behind him. Inside was pitch black. He muttered Lumos and his wand lit up. He held his wand high, searching among the many objects scattered along the bookshelf. A box, he said to himself, it's in a box. Stuck behind a taller carton, he pulled out a heavy wooden box. He hissed in pain and quickly put it on the bed next to him. It had been like putting his hand onto a fired up stove. Bracing himself, he opened the lid, then waved his hands as if that would cool them off. Inside laid a perfectly round white orb.

Quickly, he retrieved a piece of paper and quill from his robes. He could not take the orb with him that would prove too obvious and dangerous so he would have to be an extremely fast writer. Unlike the orbs the Ministry used, this one was clearly manufactured differently. A small raised dot caught his attention. He pushed it in and watched as a floating figure rose from the orb and revolved slowly.

As Megan Hollowell began to speak, Snape put the quill to parchment and wrote, knowing that this was his only chance. Footsteps could be heard as the figure began reciting the part he already knew. Snape snapped the box shut, put it back, and shoved the paper back in his robes. Voices were arguing outside the room. The Potions Master pulled a pouch from a pocket. He scooped out the contents, threw it over him, and thought of Hogwarts.


	18. Paternity

**AN:** A quick clarification - Pettigrew is not the father. In the first chapters, Voldemort uses a spell in order for her to conceive. In actuality, Hermione was never really "violated." Obtaining some hair/skin/nail/DNA off the father, and putting that into a potion then using an incantation is simpler than kidnapping someone and making them…violate her! So, Wormtail was only feeling up an already impregnated Hermione ………anybody still with me? > >- denotes a dream since this site hates my italics

**Reviews:** /cookies – **_dubtheeunforgiven _**(Well…if you don't want to piratey… :P)**_, MaisjetadoreSiriusNoir_**/**_Anna _**(Tsk tsk…no reviews? ;) But your back so…I'll let it slide. Lucius is too arrogant for his own good.)**_, CapnSilver _**(I love writing Snape to pieces…he's so nasty…)**_, Aelimir _**(WB and enjoy the update!) **_, Carpetfibers_** (/tissue I'm sure we've all given a good cry over HG/RL)**_, Ruby Malfoy _**(I hope my AN cleared up the thing w/ Wormtail. Culprit? Revealed in this chapter!)**_, ponyboyluver, AlyceJL, LadyNorskstar _**(Your rooting for Malfoy? This is a 'drama' so he's going to pop back up.)**_, just deej, venusrose, Smiles28, Aljinon _**(Welcome to my other fic! Hope you like as much as B&B) and**_ gingitsune878._**

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**Last Chapter: **"Remus, you think too much." With that, she pulled him closer and closed her eyes. Remus did not need to think as he met her lips.

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>Come. Come away with me, she beckoned. Again, she held out her hand to Hermione. A pale, bruised hand reached out and grasped hers. It felt cold, much colder than the air surrounding them. They stood in a maze of corridors and doors. None of the torches of the walls was lit and a dampness clung to the stone. Hermione turned to look back at Hogwart's Great Hall, slowly becoming fainter. She had been led away from that nightmare to a new one. The small hand tugged on hers. 

"No," said Hermione, trying to pull away. "I don't want to go." 

The woman's hair still fell in front her face, but as she turned half the curtain moved to reveal a face that looked like the hand. Pale, bruised with a livid design carved on her cheek. A snake protruding from a skull's mouth. Her one eye watched as Hermione stared, an eye like a single inkblot on parchment. She turned her head away and grasped Hermione's hand tighter. 

"We can't go there yet," she said echolike, "but we have to start now so we can find it or else it will then be too late. My name is Megan and I'll be your liaison for the evening." Then she laughed softly, abruptly, which left the brown-haired girl staring uneasily. "Are you ready?" she asked then began pulling Hermione deeper into the dark hall. 

A strange knocking sound resounded around them. Megan had turned back toward Hermione and her busted lips moved, asking, "Are you ready?" but no sound came from her. Instead, a distant, familiar voice was saying it. The scene around started to dissolve as she was pulled out by the continually speaking voice. When only darkness pervaded Hermione's vision, a whisper came close to her ear, a feminine voice. "I'll be waiting," she said. "I have all the time in the world.">

Sucking in a breath, Hermione jumped awake, nearly snapping the quill that she was holding. She leaned her elbows on her vanity and put her face in her hands, looking down at the letter she had started to her parents. _The baby and I are doing fine; we haven't had any problems yet. He's moving now, a lot more than he used to. It seems he enjoys kicking and rolling around. I wish you both were here, but you really don't need to worry; I'm in good hands. Dumbledore said after the search for me starts to slow down that we might get to set up a meeting. I miss you so much. Ask Daddy what he thinks of the names at the end; I included his. I just don't know… _Another knock on her door caused her to jerk around in the chair. Remus called from the other side, "Hermione, are you ready yet?"

"Just a minute," she answered. Quickly, she folded the letter and put her supplies in the vanity's top drawer. Hermione resisted the urge to wipe off the hand that had been touched in the dream. Rushing to her closet, she pulled out the first jeans and shirt she saw along with a jacket and scarf. As graceful as a pregnant woman could, she quickly pulled her ensemble on then burst through the door, surprising Remus who had been leaning on the frame.

Hermione looked over the sight in front of her. A strange one at that. Remus wore an inconspicuous Muggle outfit of fading black slacks and the navy blue sweater she had knit him which brought out the blue in his eyes which was odd considering Remus typically had gray eyes. Visibly, he had already decided to change his appearance including his hair color (now black with still some gray) and skin tone (darker with what looked to be freckles or at least an attempt at them.) _Odd_, she thought, _I thought there was more gray than that and the lines around his eyes…where'd they go…_

"Do I look that bad?" asked Remus in response to Hermione's expression.

"No," she broke off her concentrated stare, "just different. Nice nose though." His once straight nose curved some to the right as if someone had decided to smash his face into a table and no one had bothered with trying to fix the damage.

He smiled faintly. "At least you didn't curse me this time."

"Count your blessings," she mumbled affably. "Give me another minute or two so I can change my looks and then I will be ready."

Turning back around, she left him at the door and bent down to look in the vanity's mirror. Her hair straightened, shortened up to touch her shoulders and turned a strawberry blonde hue. At first, her eyes were a fierce violet then she decided they were creepily bright and changed them to a greenish hazel. Satisfied with the results, she marched back into the hall, past Remus, and down the stairs. "Are you coming?" she called as she went down. She thought she heard an exasperated sigh from above and smiled to herself.

They stood next to the front door, each in full outdoor gear, ready to face the elements. Hermione turned the doorknob, eager for a chance to get out from her house arrest for however brief which did not just consist of a walk in the backyard. Remus had promised to take her shopping with him at the village if Dumbledore allowed and he had. Nevertheless, Remus pushed the door closed as she started to open it. She looked at him incredulously.

"Hold your horses, we still need to Disillusion you before we go. Can't risk having somebody even becoming slightly suspicious about your identity," he said.

"Oh yeah. I completely forgot; I just really wanted to get out of here for a bit." She popped her wand out from her sleeve, held it over her stomach, and hesitated. "What's the Disillusionment charm that does the chameleon effect?"

Remus pulled out his own wand. "I'm not quite sure. Let me see if this'll work." He moved closer and furrowed his brow. Hermione noticed he did this when he was thinking, especially when he was trying to answer one of her more difficult questions when they held a lesson. He had been doing it a great deal more since…well…since _it_ had happened. Then Hermione had to use some more _its_ in order for him to stop and reassure the part of him that kept saying 'no.'

Looking down from her thoughts, she was astonished to see straight to the floor. Remus stood back criticizing his handiwork. "I think that will do for the time, but I do need to study up on Disillusions. Now that's done, we can go," he opened the door, ushering her out and magically locking the door behind them.

The ground squished beneath their shoes as they made their way down the road. A momentary warm period had melted off the ice and a good deal of the snow, leaving a slushy muddy mixture behind. Thus far, the journey had been in silence, broken only by a sucking sound as a shoe freed itself or a bird cawing overhead. Trees towered over their heads, blocking out the weak sun.

Hermione found it disconcerting to look down and see nothing then place her hand on apparent thin air and feel a fluttering motion. Just like in her previous dream. Remus argued he would only be a danger to her, but Hermione silently disagreed about who was the most dangerous. She still had not divulged the reason for everyone becoming disfigured zombies. Her. Heaving a sigh, she stopped to wrestle her boot (borrowed from Remus) out of the mud.

"Need any help?" he asked from beside her.

"No…I think I've got it." With a mighty lurch, it came unstuck and the force caused her to topple over into Remus. His unearthly senses enabled him to be ready and easily kept them both from ending up on the ground.

"Sorry about that," she said, righting herself and brushing the light-colored strands of hair out of her face.

"Maybe I should have found another form of transportation. I didn't know it was this bad out here. Are you sure you're up to the walk?" His deep blue eyes glanced at her as he continued walking.

"I'm pregnant not crippled, Remus. I'm pretty sure I'll make it. Besides, I'm supposed to be getting exercise and I don't think sitting on the couch counts."

Once again, he looked down at her and Hermione found trying to read his eyes was hard. The color threw her off. "You're sure of a lot of things, aren't you?" he said offhandedly.

"No," she answered truthfully, keeping stride with him. "Not everything, but I'm sure about a few." Reaching over, she took his hand in hers, glad it was warm and that he did not release her hand.

"I still don't think you understand what you're getting into," he began.

"Remus, don't start. We've already been through this." She gave him an pleading look. "I don't care. I know exactly what -"

He shook his head and stopped to look at her. They were near the end of the road. "You won't care when I snap your arm off one full moon? On the other hand, if you actually survive me, you won't mind people's remarks about being with that dangerous half-breed? I'll only end up hurting you somehow. You deserve much better."

No matter what she continually told him, he came full circle back to his doubts. The past had not been kind to him and neither had previous romances once they found out his condition. She had been too scared to confess her own fears…until now…she needed to get her point across.

"Remus Jwhatever Lupin!" She poked him hard in the chest. "You're not the only one scared here. I'm not scared by you; instead, it's me you should be terrified of. I'm carrying a damn bloody time bomb! Who knows when I'm going to take the down the entire wizard world? How'd you like to be connected to the Mudblood who bore what helped Voldemort take over the world? Huh?" Her moment of hysterics died down and more faintly, she said, "Remus, I'm going to end up killing you before this is over."

She did not realize she had been crying until a blurry hand started gently wiping at her cheeks. Then arms enveloped her and they simply stood there in the middle of the road. He pulled back her hat some and kissed her on the forehead. "If you promise not to kill me, I promise to stop carrying on," he said to her.

Her head was on his chest and she made a sound that indicated her annoyance. "That's not funny. In my dream, you were covered in silver and it was all my fault."

"It was only a dream, Hermione." He pulled back again in order to look her in the face. "Not to mention, it would take a lot more than silver to kill me off. Besides, that'll never happened since you're never falling back into Voldemort's hands. Do you know what that means?"

"What?" she answered. She was resisting the urge to tear up again. How she hated hormones. Really, really hated them.

"You're going to have a baby, not a bomb and he's going to have the brightest, most wonderful woman for a mother. Oh and by the way, it's Jonathon, not Jwhatever." With each word, he moved in closer until they were breathing the same air. This time he did not wait for Hermione. Disregarding the blonde hair and out of place eyes, his lips captured hers that were all too familiar to him now. They only parted when a car honk from the main road startled them and the driver whistled his approval. Nervously, both laughed and put their quickly retrieved wands back before continuing the walk into town.

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_Wax beans? What in the world are wax beans? _Hermione studied over the items on the shelf. She was just now getting to the canned vegetable aisle. Remus was not far behind pushing a cart that she guessed had been around since, well, forever. Kind of like the woman they had greeted upon entering the store. She had not given a reply, only a scathing look that clearly snarled out how dare they disturb her. Hermione placed the can back and pondered on down the row.

The sound of squeaky wheels followed slowly behind her. He paused at a bakery sales rack that Hermione knew he would soon pass up since she knew what it had to offer. Some very out of date rolls. She reached for a can of lentils, which was odd since she did not even like lentils. Then again, a little thing called pregnancy can make a person crave strange things. _Ooh, sauerkraut. I could go for some of that with a hot dog…considering I couldn't even stomach that stuff a few months ago._

Unfortunately, the wanted can sat on the topmost shelf. Remus however stood at the end, glancing up occasionally to see if she was still there. Not a single Death Eater had popped up, but that did not mean he was going to let her out of his sight for one second. Who knew what that old cashier lady's ulterior motive was? Deciding to just do it herself and save her the trouble of calling him over, Hermione tiptoed to as high as she could and reached. She reached as best she could considering her 'nonexistent' stomach kept getting in the way which caused her to look odd, having a few inches of space from the shelf and not getting closer.

She got one finger on the can's top and expertly leaned it forward before realizing what was about to happen. The entire stack of cans wobbled dangerously and Hermione could only stand transfixed as the began their tumble. Instinctively flinching, she threw her arms over her head and waited for the inevitable. Then waited…and…waited. She could hear the sound of the metal as they hit the floor and rolled away, but she had felt none of them. Cautiously, she opened an eye to see a can roll to a stop at their buggy and a foot soon came into view.

With a bewildered expression, she uncovered her head to see Remus giving her a disbelieving, though somewhat troubled look. He took her arm and pulled her away from the shelf, glancing up and down the aisle. "What was that?" he asked, barely above a whisper. "I thought we agreed no magic was to be done outside of the barrier."

"I didn't," she said, rubbing her invisible abdomen. "I swear I didn't. I don't know what happened. I was trying to get a can, then they all started falling, and nothing happened. They just fell around me…I don't know…"

"You didn't put up some kind of shield or protection around you?" Again, he looked around as if searching for someone to pop out and attack.

"No. I thought maybe you did or something." The pain in her belly was worsening. She clenched her teeth against it. "By the way your talking, it doesn't sound like it though. Are you sure I didn't get lucky?"

"We need to get out of here," he said suddenly. The woman from the register glared down the aisle at them and the mess. Remus pulled Hermione around the corner along with their cart. "Luck had nothing to do with it," he continued. "I saw a shield form above you and no amount of luck could have made those cans just go rolling off of it. How did they…" He broke off. "…what's wrong?"

She stood bent over in aisle 8, clutching her waist. Her eyes were shut tight and her breathing was uneven. "I don't know," she muttered. "Ever since the accident, I've had a pain. He's really moving right now, but that's not it. At least…I don't think…" She inhaled sharply then opened her eyes to try to focus. Remus crouched down worriedly in front of her. He whirled in her vision; nevertheless, slowly her line of sight began to level.

"Is it getting any better? Can you make it out of here?" he asked.

Nodding, she straightened up. "Yeah, it's going away. Let's go." Moving quickly, they made their way to the front to pay. Hermione leaned against the shopping cart the entire time, gradually regaining the color in her face. This earned a concerned gaze from Remus, but she could tell his analytical side had clicked on. He was thinking, his forehead wrinkled in thought. The woman cashier just looked angrily at the two and mumbled about how no one respected the grocery store business anymore. Her grumbling followed them outside and down the road.

The bags were safely shrunk in Remus' pockets. He could feel them weighing them down. Hermione stood next to him, waiting on him to unlock the front door. She was staring off in no general direction and absentmindedly placed a hand on her stomach, which was now visible again along with her natural looks. He had a thought, a crazy one, about what had happened. Taking off the locking spell, he opened his mouth then closed it. She would think him mental.

"What is it?" she asked, seeing his expression.

"I've had a thought about what happened at the store," he began.

She nodded. "So have I, but it doesn't make any sense."

"Well," he resumed, feeling a little more confident after her statement, "if it wasn't you or me and I couldn't detect anyone else with magical abilities in there, then that leaves only one possibility…" Trailing off, he hoped she would voice what he was thinking.

"It was him." She looked down where her hand rested. "I told you I'm carrying something that's just ticking away…"

He shut the door behind them, losing her briefly in the darkness of the room before lighting his wand. "He was protecting you. What happened wasn't malicious…" He stopped talking because he finally had noticed what she had. Someone was sitting in the wingback chair in the farthest corner.

Dumbledore rose from his position and ushered them to sit down. "I have urgent news. We have been able to obtain it just recently. I had hoped to come by sooner with it, but it had to analyzed so I'd have no confusion when I brought it. Please sit. It will take a bit to go through it."

They did as instructed. Remus asked, "What is Albus? Has something happened?"

Becoming pale again, Hermione added, "Is everyone alright?"

Pulling papers from his robes, Dumbledore said, "No one is in grave danger. Severus procured some injuries from his mission to get this." He held up the papers. "He was able to infiltrate Voldemort's stronghold, but his Disappearing Dust didn't act fast enough to transport him out before he was hit by some curses."

"But he'll be okay, right?"

"Yes, he's recovering at Hogwarts right now."

Remus pointed to what Dumbledore held in his hand. "And what was he able to get out with?"

"The prophecy. He was able to write down the entire prophecy." He unfolded the papers and handed a copy to both. "This is only the first part. I want to go through it piece by piece and not get ahead."

"Do you know who the father is?" asked Hermione breathlessly.

"We have an idea," said Dumbledore heavily, "but nothing more until we can positively identify him through a potion test. Severus, once he is well, will brew that for us. Right now, you have the part about you, Miss Granger. I'm going to read it and tell you Severus' and mine interpretations then I'd like you to tell me if it applies to you."

Slowly in a steady voice he read off,

"The Virgin born of the splitting septem

Comes of age during times of strife

No longer a lioness in the shadow

Though percipient she may be

Her blood is still mudded

From her tainted womb

It shall come"

"When is your birthday, Hermione?" he asked softly.

Her eyes continued to scan over the words. "It's September 15."

"Although the part about the virgin can refer to your virtue, you are under the sign of Virgo. The splitting septem also refers to your birthday. Septem refers to seven and in the old calendar September was the seventh month. It also has thirty days and it would therefore split on the fifteenth. And this was your eighteenth birthday wasn't it?"

"Yes."

"Therefore, during these time of strife or of Voldemort, you came of age, the age of eighteen. I hadn't seen the connection until I saw this but you were kidnapped on September 13 and by no mistake. They had to only wait out two days then could perform the spell. The next line is straightforward. Lioness referring to your House and the shadow would be Harry's. You've come into your own power right."

"He can keep it. I don't want any power," she said. Remus saw she was holding the paper so tautly she might soon rip it in two. He moved a hand over and took hers to help calm her down, not caring if Dumbledore saw.

"I know, Miss Granger, I know. The last bit refers to your intelligence or percipience. Mudded blood and tainted womb point to a Muggle-born and not a Pureblood or even Halfblood. Severus and I tried to think of anyone else who could fit this profile, but no one else does. I'm afraid there is no mistaken identity."

"Can…can I see the second part?" she asked, timorously.

Dumbledore nodded and passed out a second slip of paper. "I'll read this one also and explain what we believe it says, but we could be wrong."

Hermione tensed as he read aloud and followed along on her own copy,

"Balancing the Scales is he who shall seed

Seemingly senescent and forsaken

Mere mentor no more

An inner darkness

Heeding the pale one's call

Cycle of hate forced upon him

By him, it shall come"

Breathlessly, she waited for him to start explaining; telling her if this man was an unsuspecting victim like her or if he knew…

"This date of birth reference is vaguer than yours. Balancing the scales appears to reference to the sign of Libra whose symbol are scales. Um…he seems old, worn down, and lonely." Dumbledore paused and looked the two over, taking in the hand holding but not saying anything. "I want to remind you none of this is certain until we can test."

"I know, but still…just tell me…" she begged.

"Alright. Now, he was once a mentor or guide to you, but no more. For some reason, something dark in him must go to the pale one. The mean of that was not clear until the next line. _Cycle of hate forced upon him. _He has to hate against his will for the 'pale one.' He goes to Voldemort, the pale one, but doesn't believe in what he does. He goes due to an inner darkness, inner demons, trying to rectify them." Dumbledore looked up tiredly at them.

Hermione's mouth hung open as she put it together. A mentor…a teacher who seemed alone…that went to Voldemort, but did not… "But that means," she said, "that means…"

Remus looked stricken at her then to Dumbledore who offered nothing to go against what Hermione was getting at. "It's Snape," he burst out. "That bastard did this to her!"

"He was as clueless as Hermione here. He had no idea. Do you think he's taking this any better, Remus? Merlin knows since we pieced it together, he's been tearing himself apart." Dumbledore's stare silenced whatever else Remus wanted to shout. "But still it's only a theory. Once we can test him against the child, we'll know for sure."

"But your pretty sure, aren't you?" Remus said angrily. "No one else fits in that profile."

"I think," broke in Hermione, "I need to be alone." She rose, still clutching the papers, and slightly wild-eyed turned to go toward the stairs.

Remus stood also and started to go after her. "Hermione," he said to her retreating back. She paused on the stairs before continuing up until she disappeared. He moved toward the staircase, but a hand on his shoulder held him back.

"Let her go," Dumbledore said. "She needs time to herself, to think."

"But," argued Remus.

The older wizard shook his head. "Give her time, she'll come out and then you can talk to her. Keep your eye on after she does and report back to me. I've got to go back and check on our Potions Master, growing back a finger is never pleasant."

Dumbledore spun out of sight, leaving Remus to sit on the couch alone. As aged wizard materialized at Hogwarts, a faint popping sound alerted him to a pocket in his robes. Pulling out a plain manila folder, a new sheet of parchment sat in it. The shaky cursive handwriting said, "Tell him it's a boy and I'm going to name him Jonathon."


	19. Liquid Courage

**AN:** I bow down to JK and her ability to write a prophecy in five lines. It took me nearly twenty. That's four times as many! Have I mentioned poetry and/or anything resembling it isn't my strong point? BTW, now that I have hit stats…I know you're reading and not reviewing… tsk-tsk… (Or at least clicking…) Special cookies to whomever can tell me what her codename has to do with.

**Reviews:** Bunch of conspiracy theorists :P – **_Aljinon_**, **_AlyceJL_**, **_Aubrey (_**Is Snape a Capricorn? I had no idea about his birthday so I just twisted it to my own purposes…maybe I did and just decided to fling that knowledge to the wind.****, **_Beth (_**I 'researched' or actually 'bumbled around' on the web for b-days and whatnot. Then I decided to cackle, use my fic writer's privileges, and change his middle name and her birthday. At least I kept them close…not like one fic where poor Remus' had the middle name of Jade.****, **_Bex (_**You are more than welcome to review though I'll never ask for a certain amount before posting. That's just mean.****, **_BlackHorntailJunior_**, **_BridgettLynn (_**The potions reappear in this chapter!****, **_CapnSilver (_**First reviewer award!****, **_dubtheeunforgiven (_**YAY! Someone who liked me dubbing Remus with the middle name of Jonathon. John just sounded so…vanilla. No offense to JK!****, **_ilovefireyredheads (_**I can't tell you who ends up with who can I? I like that cat to keep in my bag, if those poor dears live to get out of it…****, **_JinxTwix (_**Though this chapter clarifies -I think- the sender was Hermione since Remus didn't know the name and Snape surely didn't send a note to give to himself:D****, **_just deej_**, **_Lady Asano (_**/hands her a bat. Feel free to take it out on Albus. I do need to get back to B&B, don't I?****, **_Mizuki hikari_**, **_MoonNZ (_**Really? Hmmm…****, **_ponyboyluver_**, **_RandomReviewer_**, **_Smiles28_**, **_venusrose (_**YAY! Someone who liked the grocery store scene. I doubt Jon will keep his powers to himself.****, and **_zeusfluff_**/**_Melissa_**.

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**Last Chapter:** "But that means," she said, "that means…"

Remus looked stricken at her then to Dumbledore who offered nothing to go against what Hermione was getting at. "It's Snape," he burst out. "That bastard did this to her!"

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Snape gazed sullenly down into the empty tumbler. The low burning fire caused what was left to flicker, the liquid's golden remnants making shapes against his black robes. He swirled the glass around and listened to the ice cubes clink before reaching for a bottle on his desk. A bit of Scotch spilled on his leg as he poured himself another drink. Grumbling in annoyance, he blotted at the spot with his sleeve. His hand was not as steady as it had been four drinks ago or was it five. Honestly, he had lost count. With a lurch, he tipped the tumbler back and downed it.

As the amber liquid burned its way down his throat, Snape regarded the bottle he held. It had been awhile since he had had any reason to break it out from its cupboard. The irony was he had gotten it as a birthday gift and now his birthday was the reason for his binge.

"October 22," he muttered down at the bottle. "One day off. One bloody day off."

Carefully as he could manage, he slammed both items back on his desk. He buried his face in his hands. Barely. He had barely been a Libra. A few hours more and he would have a Scorpio. How he hated October 22 at the moment and he hated October 23 even more since it had not been able to come fast enough to spare him this fate. One he could not even dare to face. Hermione.

He did not even have to see her everyday to be reminded. His daily classes ensured his mind never strayed too far from the constant stream of the deprecating thoughts. Harry and Ron's faces betrayed how they were doing without her. Not even all the rigorous fight training preparing for the inevitable and the worst could stop their faces from holding a perpetual look of anxiety and wear. All he could do stand there and teach or train as if nothing had ever happened. Recently, the duo had started asking him questions; somehow, they had gotten whiff that he knew more than the rest of the Order. Just today, Harry had come up to him after a school-wide dueling lesson and quietly inquired about how Hermione was doing. Snape had nervously out of habit stuffed his injured hand (strange still growing finger and all) in his pocket before stating everything was fine and huffing off in the usual manner.

He lowered his hands into his lap and leaned back in his chair. What should he have said? _Sure, sure everything is perfectly alright; though we found out she's carrying my child. Put a damper on things, but it's not as if I knew. It's not as if I helped impregnate one of my students by me on purpose. I never noticed anyone…I never noticed…_

Snape closed his eyes and mentally beat himself again. How could he not have noticed someone cozying up to him and taking a hair or skin or anything? A piece of the potential father was an essential piece to the potion and to the entire spell as a whole. _Must have been Malfoy_, he conceded to himself. No one else hung around him in such a clinging manner whenever he went to Death Eater headquarters. He had assumed the attention was due to keep an eye on him so he would not wander where he should not. But no…

Clumsily, Snape reached within the folds of his cloak before pulling out a piece of parchment doubled over many times. He turned it repeatedly in his hands before opening it and smoothing out the creases. The wobbly cursive words on the threadbare, well read paper stared up at him. He knew them now without even looking at it. "Tell him it's a boy and I'm going to name him Jonathon."

_It was a nice name_, he often would tell himself. _Though, I know where she got it. Merlin, Remus must be ready to massacre me by now. _Still holding tightly to the paper, Snape rose to his feet and staggered briefly before grabbing hold of his desk to steady himself. With care, he put the note back. _What right did he even have to know that? _He presumed her response would have been the exact opposite. One of complete revulsion and refusal to acknowledge him in any way, shape, or form concerning the child.

His parental responsibility he thought would have followed along the same lines. _What role would I even get to play in Jon's _(what Snape subconsciously started calling him) _life, if we even survived this at all? _He shook his head. He was not blind. The connection between the wolf and her was noticeable even long before any of this had started. Snape knew who would actually raise the child and it was not he. He might be the father, but he was not the dad. He was only a nine-and-a-half fingered unsuspecting fool from a damned prophecy.

A bubbling sound from the fireplace broke his thoughts and he turned around in response. However, his footing was not very good as he spun and he swung into a small table. It fell with a wooden thud and all three vials that had once stood so neatly in a row on it shattered to the floor. Snape quickly grabbed his wand from the desk behind him and diverted the blue potion and other two from mixing. The red and purple could mix since they were of the same base, but put them with the blue and his entire office would be sky high or even that entire particular part of dungeons.

Irritably, he stepped over the mess, vowing to clean it up in a bit. He had hoped to deliver the set of potions soon since he was sure that the werewolf would be running quite low. He shrugged it off. _It's not as if he's going to die without them. Lupin can make due. Don't know why I'm always at his beck and call_. _I'll just have to make up some more as soon as I'm done with this one._ _Too bad stomach acid keeps the exploding in check or else I wouldn't even have to worry._ He considered the bubbly mixture in front of him over his office fire. The one that would either seal his fate or set him free. This potion could not be fouled up.

Snape bent over to pick up a ladle on the floor, nearly lost his balance in the process, but in the end stood up right, looking dizzily down. Tentatively, he poked at the simmering sea foam green surface. The viscous liquid was nearly ready, just a few more days over low heat. As he continued stirring, something was amiss. His wristwatch continued to keep getting hotter and hotter until he recoiled back from the fire, but he soon realized it was not heat from the flames since it still burned afterward. His slightly slow mind eventually told him to press the side button. Immediately, it stopped and a stream of words flashed across its face.

The Order and its many forms of 'more secure' communications lines were open and Snape was on the receiving end. **Moirai: need assistance ASAP**, it read then a broken jumble of numbers and letters went by indicating interference then a set of coordinates. That was all he needed. The codename was familiar; she was a fairly new inductee and had often resorted to calling for help.

Squinting around his office, he carefully made his way around the rivers of potion still needing a cleanup and picked up a black drawstring bag. He spilt most of it on the floor after missing his upturned hand. Pausing, he briefly registered something about how Albus told him to stay put, then decided that the message was sent to him so he should answer it. At last, he managed to dispense enough to throw over him and thought of her position.

He appeared in a dark ring of trees. The trip made him even more unstable and he fell backwards over a well-placed root. Grunting, he grasped the tree for help getting up then with the wand at the ready made his way further into the thicket. His sight blurred the dim images together, but one caught his eye. Something was propped up against a very large tree directly in front of him.

Upon closer inspection and a reluctantly lit wand, he could make out that it was in fact somebody. "Moirai," he whispered her code name loudly. No response. "I'm here to assist you though it looks like everything is under control." Still nothing. He moved closer and held his wand for better light.

A pair of vacant violet eyes reflected the golden light. Snape cursed under his breath and rushed closer. A trail of dried blood seeped from under her short frosty blonde hair and her blue tinged mouth hung slack. A watch had been taken from her wrist roughly, evident from the red marks, and placed carefully in a place of prominence, hanging from the center of her shirt's collar. It flashed red, signifying she was requesting help. The call was still going out even after someone had done this and they had not stopped it…

"You didn't send out this call," he said abruptly to her still body. "That means…" He rose swiftly and turned around, his wand held high. A fist caught him in greeting and sent him once again to the ground.

Snape rubbed his jaw, looking up at the wand pointed down at him. Lights were popping everywhere. "How nice to see you, too, Lucius. I must say your jab has improved. Last time you hit me, I thought I was up against a little girl."

The last statement caused the blonde man to throw himself on Snape and start pummeling him again. Lucius held him down with one hand then proceeded to repeatedly punch him with his right hand. Lifting a leg, Snape hit his assailant in a very delicate spot and pushed him roughly off. Both scrambled to their feet, wands on the ground long forgotten.

"I bet she put up a better fight than you," said Snape, pointing at the limp figure. "You know she has a better bleach job than you." It seems Snape's 'shut up' filter had been hindered by the alcohol, not as if he had much of one to begin with, though a sober Severus would have wisely left the last part off.

"Forget orders this time. I'm going to kill you right now," roared Lucius then pounced.

Snape, already balanced impaired, found himself pushed against a tree and a hand at his throat. He chortled, which gurgled slightly, directly in Lucius' face as the other applied more pressure. "Nice scar," he rasped out. "Voldemort give it to you? Must have been furious you let me slip through your hands again."

The thin scar that traced down the entire left side of Lucius face turned white with anger and he put both hand around Snape's throat. "Not this time," he said. Obviously, his anger impaired his judgment since Snape now had use of both his hands. He swung a staggering blow to Lucius' face then gasped for air as the blonde went reeling, clutching his eye.

"You're slipping, Lucius," slurred Snape as he bent to pick up his wand, keeping both eyes on the other man.

Surprisingly, Lucius smirked at that and nodded his head. "No…I think you're the one who's slipping…"

Then the world went from dim colors to swirling into total blackness for Snape as something came from behind and struck him. He felt himself pitch forward onto the ground. "Unfair," he muttered then slipped completely into unconsciousness.

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_Conversing with the dead is such a pain_, thought Hermione as she pushed the book she had been dozing on out from under her. Groaning, she lifted herself off her bed, deciding her time with dear pal Newt Scamander was over for the day though she doubted she could say the same for a certain deceased Seer. She was getting out of bed to only get back in it and more than likely another chat with the other side. _Just as soon as I get out of these clothes._

Sleepily she rubbed her eyes and grabbed the first nightgown in sight. She undressed and pulled it on then walked past her vanity on her way to the bathroom to brush her teeth. The image reflected from the vanity's mirror caused her to about face and backtrack. Upon closer inspection, she could only ask herself one thing aloud, "Where did this cleavage come from?"

_Oh my gosh_, she thought then adjusted her gown's straps as if it would help diminish anything. Sure, she admitted empire-waists were great for such illusions, but Merlin help her, last time she pulled this on she was not busting at the seams as she was now. _Wow…this isn't a bad thing, but yeesh… _She shook her head in disbelief before scampering into the hall, crossing her arms defensively, and keeping a look out for Remus incase she suddenly needed to dive back into her room.

Hermione slipped quietly down to the bathroom door and slid inside. She congratulated herself on her improved stealth before a rustling from the tub caused her to freeze in place. The shower curtain rippled and a figure moved behind it. _Oh…bad…very, very bad…_ Carefully she backpedaled toward what she thought was an open doorway only to thud into a very solid door. The figure stopped. She turned slowly and bit her lip as she turned the door handle. It did not budge.

"Hermione?" the shape asked.

She could only stare wide-eyed and cover her mouth in terror before giving the handle a slightly more violent shake.

"Hermione?" he repeated. "I'll be out in a bit. I'm nearly-" Next a hand appeared around the shower curtain as if to pull it back.

"Remus!" she could barely contain herself as she yelled his name. "Don't!" Nevertheless, the hand was still moving so she did the first thing that came to mind; she slapped a hand to her eyes.

"And how might I be of service?" asked a calm voice though a twinge of amusement came through.

Timidly, Hermione scooted a finger to allow one eye a view and saw Remus' head with his amused expression including wet, messy hair from around the curtain. Her face turned a violent shade red as she lowered her hand. "I didn't…I didn't know you were in here or I wouldn't have…and well…the door…it shut and now it won't open and I'm really sorry about this, but," she finished in a rush then jiggled the unyielding knob once again to prove her point.

"Alright, I'll see what I can do…um…before though I'll need a towel, if you'll be so kind as to hand me one." He gestured toward the cabinet next to Hermione.

She got one then handed it to his outstretched dripping arm. Her embarrassment kept her looking anywhere but at him. After a few moments, his face reappeared. "Could you hand me my…um…er…boxers right beside you? Yes, yes…the maroon ones." He also turned red as she gave them to him. Soon, the curtain was pushed back and he stepped out from the shower in said boxers.

Hermione let her eyes wander over his wiry form and suddenly appreciated the arms and chest that often held her. She hoped he would not notice, but from his expression, she guessed he had. He actually seemed pleased. "It's not like I did this on purpose," she pointed out in defense.

He smiled and said mock skeptically, "Sure." He rattled the stubborn doorknob. "Couldn't wait to get me out of my clothes so you thought you'd sneak up on me in the shower."

"You wish," she shot back then teasingly smacked him on his bare arm. The door was still completely shut. "Won't open?" she asked cheerfully.

"It seems you've locked us in here. Another part of your plot to catch me undressed and get me alone." He looked over at her and raised his eyebrows.

"I," she emphasized the word by pointing a finger at herself, "don't need ploys to do such a thing." She grinned mischievously. "I'm pretty sure I can get you any way I want, any time I want, and most certainly of all stuck in a bathroom in nothing more than maroon boxers with," she stifled a laugh, "winking stars."

"That you could." He took the hand resting near her collarbone and placed a kiss on it. "Although," he moved in closer, "the part about the stars was a bit low and just as I was about to complement your very nice black outfit."

Remus continued holding her hand and she could still feel the tingle from when his lips had touched it. Then he rested her hand on his shoulder, against his neck. Hermione suddenly felt exceedingly self-conscious with him begin so close to some 'regions' that she worried over in such an outfit.

"This? No, it's short. Much too short. You know I ought to extend the hem and the top is lacking fabric." She used her free hand pull up on the neckline. "I just wasn't made for something like this."

"On the contrary, my dear," he placed a hand on the small of her back and pulled her forward, "I rather think you're stunning whether you're in a ball gown," he placed a kiss on the edge of her jaw, "a night gown," he traced another kiss, "or even a sack." He accentuated the last point by planting one directly on her lips.

Hermione tried to keep herself from melting on spot, but she could not help it; he could just do that to her. She moved her other hand to his neck to steady herself. Just him lowering his lips to hers caused major fireworks to go off inside and they were nothing compared to anything Muggle or magical. Remus seemed to have the same reaction. The only way to put out the fire was to press closer to him.

Up to now, he had been pretty gentleman-like in their encounters. Though sometimes in the heat of the moment, he would abandon that and let the hands wander. Like at that instant, she could barely think of anything but his hand moving up and down her leg underneath her gown. Everything was registering in a blur. His hand, her leg, his chest, her hands, the lips, the breathing. Not to mention the lack of clothing on Remus' part. Her stomach though bigger was not large enough to hinder them too much. So dizzyingly wonderful it all was that a squeaking noise barely reached her thoughts.

She only opened her eyes after the hands were entirely removed and Remus jagged breathing punctuated the silence. His forehead rested against hers. "The door," he said huskily.

Looking over, she saw the light from the hall spilling in from a wide open door frame. Apparently, the door did not need their help after all. Remus leaned against the wall with both hands with Hermione trapped in between. "I think it's time I turn in for the night. Old men like me don't have the stamina the young have."

"I'm positive you could give them a run for their money," said Hermione, regaining normal breathing.

"Are you staying up?" he asked, leaning on the doorframe with his exposed upper frame in relief against the hall light.

"No," she flicked off the bathroom light, "I'm calling it a day."

"Well then, good night Hermione and I'll see you in the morning." He leaned in to give her a quick peck on the cheek and straightened her gown strap, which had somehow fallen off her shoulder. "Do try to remember to knock in the future," he added.

"Only if someone starts locking the doors," she replied. Smiling slightly she said, "Good night," and went back to her room to climb into her bed, completely forgetting to do what she went to bathroom for in the first place.

_"Does it hurt?" she found herself asking._

_"Does what hurt?" retorted the now familiar voice._

_Hermione looked down at the stone floor and said, "Any of it."_

_Megan raised an eyebrow, wrinkling her pale forehead. "Well, not anymore. Being dead will do that to you. At the time, it hurt like hell except for this." She touched the cheek with the insignia. "I woke up with that. Completely postmortem. Got to thank that bastard for the small favor."_

_"You woke up?" continued Hermione, puzzled._

_"Yeah, opened my eyes and here I was on the spiritual astral plane. Apparently, my work isn't done since I'm here with you. You'd think they'd cut me some slack; I think all those prophecies I had to deliver should automatically get me a nice, peaceful afterlife."_

_A group of black robed men walked past and paid them no heed. Involuntarily, Hermione shrunk closer to the wall they were walking by. Her dead guide moved her back to the middle as another one ran directly towards them. Megan kept a firm grip on her as Hermione braced for an impact, but the man just went right through them._

_"I told you," she said exasperated, "they can't touch us, hear us, or even see us, so calm down. We've still got a ways to go."_

_"Do you even know where we're going exactly?" asked Hermione as she was pulled along._

_The slightly older witch tucked some dark hair behind her ear, revealing her face in thought. "Not really. I just know we have to keep going down. The Powers are highly cryptic. _Down it lies in the dark, waiting._ That's about all I'm getting and they stuck us here so you're just going to have to go with me on this one. Alright?"_

_Hermione nodded. "Why not? It's not as if I have a choice. I keep coming here every time I go to sleep."_

_"Well boo hoo, I have to sit here and wait for you since I can't move on without you. I've seen things here I really could have went my whole life without seeing – I mean my whole afterlife. At least you _can_ sleep," she ended grumpily. _

Remus stared down at the last bits of potions he had left. At least the ones Hermione did not know about anyway or else he could easily ask her to whip him up some more. The edge was creeping on again with another full moon coming soon, very soon. Already without the potions, he was going completely mental. He gritted his teeth against the pull to be something less than human. Something that could hear her always, something violent, something that always wanted.

Shaking his head, he put back the blue one, no longer that color since he had downed the last bit just yesterday. Only a minute portion of what he would usually take. Not that it would help is problem at the moment; it would have set his mind more at ease. _She's bright. She's going to figure it out._ He shook around the bit of red left in vial in his hand. He only took half and felt calmer. What was in him flickered down lower, its rage ebbing for the time being. Finally, he drank down half of the black and purple vial anticipating the pain. After the initial burning, he blinked his watery eyes and breathed easier since he could hear a bird outside his window but not the one across the backyard and 20 feet in the trees.

A knock on his bedroom door jarred him. Hastily, he shoved everything back into its place in the desk's bottom drawer. "Come on in," he said, trying to look natural. He could distinctly hear her heart beating as she sat down next to him on the bed. Merlin, he needed more potion. Much, much more.

"I remembered to knock this time," she said with a grin.

"I noticed. Very courteous of you," he replied.

"Ummm," started Hermione, "you've been up here a bit, is something wrong? Is it the moon?"

"Just a bit, dear. I feel a little down and tired right before, you know, and irritable, so I figured to keep you from dealing with that."

She was playing with his hair, running her fingers up and down the back. If he was a wolf at the moment, he was sure he would be kicking his leg and quite candidly, he had to keep himself from doing it. She stopped and looked at him perplexed. He opened a closed eye.

"Remus, don't take this the wrong way, but you look different," she stated at last.

He faltered a moment before saying, "It's the full moon coming up. I probably am starting to look a train wreck."

"No it's not that, quite the opposite you look rather…well…good. I can't place my finger on it but," she abruptly stopped since she reached across him to push down a pillow that had started floating.

He was thankful for the strange intervention since she was touching close to what a few moments earlier he had worried about. In a few days, being the smart woman she was, she would figure it out entirely. For the time though his pillow was floating and that begged the question, "Why's it doing that?"

"Oh," she said frustrated, "it's him. I think he's trying to be funny. Jonathon," she kept a hand firmly on the pillow, "put the pillow down for mummy." Cautiously, she let it go and breathed easy when it did not go flying back.

Dumbstruck, Remus asked, "What did you call him?"

"Jonathon. I've decided on Jonathon Marcus," she paused briefly before smiling resignedly, "and that's about as far as it's gotten. Named him after you and Dad."

He could not stop himself from grinning at the news. "After me? Well…I'm entirely flattered at that, but Snape… What about him? What have you heard from him?"

"Nothing really. Not even to complain about it. I don't even know what his last name's going to be. Should he be Jonathon Granger? Or does Severus want him to be a Snape? I just can't wrap my mind around this situation half the time."

Remus found himself drawing her to rest against his chest. "I'll help," he said into her hair. "Perhaps make him into a Lupin."

"I know you will," came the reply, "but still Severus needs to be in Jonathon's life, too. I want him to be even under the circumstances. He's probably too afraid to contact me. None of this is his fault though."

"You know how I feel about him, but you're the mum so you decide what you feel is best and how to handle it."

They lapsed into a pensive silence with Remus still secretly celebrating the name before Hermione broke it, saying, "I haven't let you feel him move yet, have I? Do you want to?"

"Yeah," he said not exactly knowing what to do. She was still leaning on him as she took his hand that was not around her and placed directly on the side of her abdomen. Being so close to the full moon, Remus could not only feel the baby's movements but also a rhythmic sound. A constant thumping that he finally figured out was the heartbeat.

"He's really putting on a show at the moment, moving in somersaults. Must be trying to impress you."

"No doubt about the tumbling though the pillow was impressive."

"You like that? Wait until you see me hiccup blue bubbles…"

_Just go in there and do it. You can, you can, you can._ Remus leaned against the doorway into the kitchen. Hermione stood at the sink; she was in the middle of making a potion. He did not know what, he could barely keep a straight thought in his head. The full moon was upon them and not since his younger days before certain potion advances did he feel this…incensed. He eyed her carefully one last time before slipping into the room and making a run for his Wolfsbane without getting noticed or having to come too close.

Quietly, he retrieved the green vial from the fridge then started to make his success retreat when he picked up a scent. Blood. Wide-eyed, he watched Hermione put down the knife she had been using then look over her wound. He caught sight of the deep red liquid. The sight, the smell, the need was taking over. More than anything, it wanted to bite. Sink its teeth into the crimson. It wanted more; it wanted her.

Inhaling slowly, Remus blinked away the red pervading his vision. He forced himself out of the room. He had to get out. Shaking, he placed the potion on the table. He would come down a little later for it, closer to dark, when she was not around. Right now, he had to move, to leave. Nothing else mattered. Remus escaped up the stairs.

Hermione turned around from her carefully lined row of newly filled lime potion vials, still pressing a dishtowel against her cut. What a klutz she could be in a kitchen. She had already added the mandrake, the slippery stuff that caused her accident. Scanning the page, she found the last ingredient. Sucrose. _Easy enough_, she thought, getting a bag down from a cabinet. She measured out the desired amount then started to put it back and cork the bottles when she noticed a vial on the table.

Puzzled, she carried the bag over to it and wondered how she had put one over there. It was the same green color. Shrugging it off as a slip of memory, Hermione uncorked it, tapped out an eighth of a teaspoon, before resealing it. Vowing never to do that much potion making at one time again, she poured herself a glass of water and left the kitchen in disarray to sit out in the bit of late sun poking through the clouds. She did not even notice the one on the table missing when she came back in.

v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v

Snape groaned and rubbed his head, which hurt. Bad. _A hangover and a possible concussion do not mix_, he thought groggily as he massaged his temples. Slowly, he opened his eyes to see…well…nothing since wherever he was at did not have a light of any kind. He dared not to move because anything could be lurking around him. Therefore, he resigned to sit in that exact spot feeling as if he had been steamrolled.

Feeling the situation going nowhere fast, he called out, "Any of you dense idiots out there?"

Almost immediately, a shaft of light appeared as a slot in a door (which he could now see) opened. The room was what he now recognized to be the dungeons in the deepest bowls of Voldemort's lair. _How cozy,_ he mused. A voice from the door said, "Don't know who you're calling the idiot. Look who's in the cell." With that reply, the slot started to shut again.

What Snape did not know was as he went back into darkness; his Hogwarts' office was brighter than a summer's day. An impulsive, drunken barrier spell does not have good walls and a particular pair of potions had mixed to make the color purple. The explosion blew apart the southern end of dungeons, destroying everything in range, most importantly a paternity potion. Not to mention all his belongings.

Good thing he did not know. His head was already pounding enough.


	20. Banefully Awry

**AN:** This is only a tidbit of Chapter 20, but I decided to post it since I've gone MIA for the longest time. School has started and I barely have time to think…ever…but I'm not giving up on anything…just hope this tides ya'll over 'til I can write the other 11 pages or so… /proceeds to fall over from sleep deprivation\

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**Last Chapter:** The sight, the smell, the need was taking over. More than anything, it wanted to bite. Sink its teeth into the crimson. It wanted more; it wanted her.

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He clenched his teeth to keep from screaming out. He grabbed the doorframe as he pitched into the room. Another convulsion hit him. It was happening too fast. With a dull sound, he fell to the floor; his hands to his head as the skin began to rip, stretching in accommodation. Desperately, he reached a hand out as if to close the door, but it was hopeless as his hand curled inward. His wand laid tauntingly on his bed. _No_, his mind screamed as he felt it slipping away. _No, it can't! _Enlarged teeth rubbed into an elongating face._ Hermione_, it continued to yell, beating against the restraints. Everything was fading, his voice giving away to only animalistic noises. _Run…dear God…run_, he inwardly pleaded as he fell away and the full moon rose to shine through his window.

Hermione kicked the Muggle clothes dryer again and grinned victoriously as the door popped open. Bending over, she dug out the load of clothes, then carefully she half-carried and half-balanced it on her stomach to the parlor. There she dumped the varying pieces of undergarments onto the loveseat in front of the bay window. Suddenly a craving for something fruity hit her and she glanced accusingly down. "Jonathon, I swear you keep me in the kitchen at all hours," she mumbled good-naturedly as she went back into the kitchen to dig through the fruit bowl.

After picking out a peach, a sound from above caused her to nearly drop it in alarm. Remus always put up a soundproofing charm so she could never hear anything on full moons. Eyeing the ceiling tiles above her, she slowly put down the piece of fruit before stealing out to look up the stairs. All was quiet once again. She tugged on the end of her nightgown she had slipped into earlier as she climbed the stairs. "Remus?" she queried tentatively.

As she reached the top, she hesitated at the sight of Remus' door being open. He never, ever left it open. It was always shut and secured from his side, awaiting her spells from the other side. Steeling herself, she softly edged toward the seemingly gaping entrance, suddenly wishing she had her wand, which she remembered she had stupidly left in the laundry room. _You won't need it. He's safe. _She glanced to her own room and knew the dagger was magically locked away. _Doesn't matter. You wouldn't need to get it out anyway. He's…_

Finally, she peeked into his room. A heap of fur was on pile of shredded clothes. It did not move. Taking a deep breath, she reached for the doorknob to shut it since she knew that would be what he wanted. The fur began emitting a low sound. It steadily grew louder and Hermione stood frozen as bars of moonlight illuminated the scene. _He's growling. _Her heart leaped into her throat. The shape stood up and its immense size shook itself off, highlighting the numerous strong muscles. Creepily familiar gray eyes observed her, but the empty, hungry expression behind them was foreign to her.

"Remus?" she whispered, hesitantly. Her still body had began to shake as the wolf in front of her bared its teeth and the hair on its back stood up. "Oh my…" she choked out. Hermione knew then that Remus was gone and what in front of her was all that was left. Fear eclipsing all thoughts, her hand flew off the door handle and she spun toward her room.

Teeth snapped her back from her room as the wolf leaped in front of her. Slowly, it moved back and forth in front of her, pushing her back toward the staircase. Her foot slipped off the landing and she nearly fell down the stairs, but her hand quickly grasped the banister. Hermione did not want to take her eyes off what was in front of her, yet she had only one way to go. Down. It did not jump her as she faltered backwards down the steps. She realized it was playing with her. Breathing nearly to hysterical levels, she exposed her back to the wolf and went as fast as she could toward the kitchen, trying to get to her wand. The click of nails and the panting steadily followed her down.

She slid in front of the entrance to the kitchen, one hand on her stomach. Jonathon was moving like crazy and her face grimaced as he picked up into a frenzy. In that moment, a dark figure bounded over her. The wolf landed in front of her, blocking her way. Hermione screamed, stumbling backwards. Its row of points showing again, the werewolf snarled and nipped at her, catching her hem briefly, pushing her toward a corner of the living room. Saliva dripped from its expectant mouth.

Apparently, she was not moving fast enough, because it tired of its little game of cat and mouse. The wolf sprang towards her, sharp white canines flashing. Instinctively, Hermione pushed the coffee table forward, catching the wolf's back legs and causing it to crash hard onto the wood. Next, she roughly shoved a wingback chair in the wolf's path as it quickly recovered. Its claws ripped at the chair's fabric as it climbed onto the seat. Hermione's back bumped into a very solid wall and with a horrific realization, she knew she had ended up exactly where the werewolf had wanted her. In a corner.

Not even trying to stop the quivering now, Hermione trembled, wide-eyed. Once more she whispered out, "Remus," as if he would suddenly take over and it would all stop. The only response was a flash of a sharp set of glistening canines and she knew what was going to come next.

A sudden unexpected pain from her abdomen caused her to cry out before sinking to the floor. "Jonathon, this would be a good time to help mummy out," she hoarsely said, arm grasping her middle and tears beginning to leak out.

The wolf, sensing his prey's weakness, let out a chilling howl before eagerly soaring down from its position. Hermione made one last desperate attempt by throwing her arms over her head and turning in toward the corner, keeping exposure to a minimum. Her eyes were closed, but the sound of its growling roared in her ears. Its breath was on her face. Yet, she was intact…

Slowly, Hermione opened her eyes and nearly tried to push through the wall. The wolf was barely inches from her face, its mouth wide as it tried to get to her. Something was holding it back. The invisible barrier rippled slightly as the wolf continually kept charging it. With each hit, Hermione could feel the recoil in her body, a constant blow in the abdomen. Her effort to try to quell the cries that were escaping from her mouth was having no effect and the noise only seemed to aggravate the wolf even more. Eventually, it was becoming too much for her and she shut her eyes, then could only grasp her stomach and pray.

The intensity of the recoil was becoming too much. Her body felt completely drained and fought to keep the barrier up. Her eyes fluttered open, noticing the wolf had angrily abandoned its prey and had started to circle around the room. Blearily, she watched it sniff the door. Then the world began to descend into darkness as her body collapsed after the strain. Before Hermione's mind was completely shut down, a resounding smash and tinkling of glass met her ears. After that, she knew no more.


	21. Banefully Awry II

**AN:** Technically, this was supposed to be part of Ch. 20, but I got impatient. So I give you Banefully Awry: Part II!

**Reviews:** Due to new policy, I will no longer thank reviewers in my story. (I fear being reported and my stories going bye-bye! It nearly happened before on another site!) Signed reviewers will get a reply sent via the new service so if you do not sign in or do not have an account…well…try and sign in or sign up! I'll only be able to just thank people in general on here now. Sorry!

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**Last Chapter:** Creepily familiar gray eyes observed her, but the empty, hungry expression behind them was foreign to her. "Remus?" she whispered, hesitantly. Her still body had began to shake as the wolf in front of her bared its teeth and the hair on its back stood up. "Oh my…" she choked out. Hermione knew then that Remus was gone and what in front of her was all that was left.

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Little by little, the world began coming back. Mostly, in pieces. The sound of a bird, the smell of the ground, and then suddenly as if flipped on by a switch, the feeling of pain, mind-blowing pain. He wished himself back to oblivion, but it did not work. Stiffly, he laid there, his now open eyes staring at the trunk of a tree. Remus could hear his own jagged breathing, loud and heavy laden in his ears. Carefully, he tried to push himself up, but he collapsed back onto the grass. His right arm was useless. Remus' cry of pain caused the birds to squawk in alarm and fly away.

Something was stuck in his right shoulder. Groping haphazardly, he felt the serrated edge of something protruding from below the shoulder blade. His hand came back slick with red. That's when he realized everything around him seemed to be covered in it. Blood. His blood. It felt as if every inch of him had been stabbed. Deliriously, he tried again to get off the ground, feeling all his strength going into that with none left to scream. This time he swayed standing up, nearly falling over, yet a well-placed tree was there for him to grab. The sight of darkened blood was sickening to him and he knew why his vision kept flashing dark at the edges.

_What happened?_

Still grasping the tree, he turned his head around the area before he caught sight of a dead deer poking out from behind a bush.

_My God… What have I done? What have…? _

A hand to his head, his mind flashed back to the house, back to Hermione. He continued staring at the deer. Everything was a blank. Shakily, he let go of the tree and started laboriously forward as fast as he could go. Fear began replacing the intense pain.

_When I get back, don't be dead._

_Don't be dead because of me._

_Don't…_

_Don't let me have killed you._

His right arm was a weight. With each step, the object in his back shifted as if going farther inward. Remus did not care. He could die and it would not matter as long as he knew, as long as he found out she was still alive. Finally after what seemed like hours in the forest, he emerged. Hobbling as he had the entire trip, he managed the steps and found a pile of broken glass shards all over the porch. They were tipped in blood. His hand traveled over his face where the points had penetrated. He shook as he opened the door, fearing what was on the other side.

The initial scene was one of chaos. Wood was splintered in the middle of the room that had once been the coffee table. A shredded chair stood farther near the corner. That was not what his eye locked on, no; it was the foot sticking out from under it that did. Limping toward it, Remus nearly tripped over himself trying to get there.

With his good left hand, he pushed the chair back away from the corner. There sprawled behind it laid Hermione, her upper body leaning against the wall while her legs extended out in front of her. Her head was turned inward toward the corner. She did not move. Tears stung in his eyes, not just from the pain of getting down on his knees, as Remus touched the gaping rip at the bottom of her gown. He could see no bite marks as he looked over her arms and legs. Not taking a breath, he placed his fingers to the side of her neck. He waited. Then faintly, he felt it. A thump. After that another.

_Thank you._

The tension in his body left and he felt the strength that had been driving him toward her give away. She was alive. He had not killed her. His pain came back full force, rushing back in. As the world began to dim, his brain stupidly realized his utter lack of clothing. She had already seen him at his worst; she did not need to seem any lower than that. Hazily, he reached over onto the couch where a pile of something sat. He picked it up. A bed sheet. Wincing, he wrapped it around his waist the best he could, the bit of what he knew now as glass biting. Shock was overcoming that now.

Sharply, the world darkened again. He slipped forward; he could not afford fall on his back. Remus eased himself down into the small wedge of space between the corner and the couch. His head rested on something soft and warm. The basically dead right arm was propped up. He could not think on what. Everything was gone from his head, save one thought.

_She's alive._

With that bit of comfort, his aching mind slipped away, dragging him with it. Then he blissfully fell away into the darkness.

Her head throbbed tremendously, an unfortunate after effect of heavy wandless magic. She pressed her left hand shakily to her forehead as if to ease the pain. Letting it fall back, her hand then held another. Hermione's eyes fluttered open as she realized something was next to her and even slightly on her.

The hand turned out to be attached to an equally, incredibly bruised and bloodied body. She quickly grasped it with her own as she used the other to smooth back Remus' hair. His head lay across her chest.

"Remus," she said urgently down at his unmoving body. No answer came. Then the horrid sight of the piece of glass came into view. His body seemed to have been attacked with its sharp points all over. Remus' exposed back was like a lattice of varying red gashes. The sight caused tears to form in her eyes, but she blinked them back. This was not the time to lose it.

"Dear lord…Remus. Oh my…," she continued. His pale face looked strangely peaceful and she anxiously wondered how much blood he had lost. He needed medical attention; his face was like a sheet.

"Remus, I'm-I'm going to have to take out the glass before I can move you or else it might kill you. Can you hear me? I don't know how you got here with it in. Remus?"

For a moment, his eyes fluttered rapidly before stilling again. Hermione whispered a soft, "I'm sorry," before grabbing the glass safely with a ripped bit of her gown and giving it a swift tug. It tore free and Remus kept his silence no more. He let out a hissing moan of pain. Swiftly, Hermione applied pressure to the newly opened wound as it bubbled up blood.

"Okay…okay…it's going to be alright," Hermione muttered, mostly to herself as she frantically watched the cloth turn red. "Now, Remus, I'm going to get you off me and onto the couch. You need bandaging; you've lost a lot of blood. Just try and uh…lean on me a bit…"

Still in her sitting position, Hermione took a hold of Remus' uninjured arm and carefully got a grip around his waist. Slowly, she used her legs push her up and slide herself along the wall, nearly falling in the process under the strain. Remus at one point slipped from her grip, causing them both to become entangled in the sheet. Luckily though, Remus had enough consciousness to keep them from coming down in a heap and to stay standing.

With trepidation, Hermione maneuvered his sagging figure over to the couch and tried to gently place him on it, back facing up. As he creaked slowly down, his pain was clear in the grimaces of his face and the gasps of pained breath that escaped. She brushed back the hair that fell into his face and pulled a nearby throw over half of his strangely cool body. Taking out her wand, she quickly summoned some potions from upstairs that zoomed readily into her hand. Strategically, she began applying them before saying a long string of incantations she had learned during a brief stint with Pomfrey in Magical Healing class.

She watched as the smaller cuts started to close, but it did not extend to the larger ones completely. He seemed to be turning paler by the minute. Not only did he need all of these closed, he also needed blood to replace what had been lost. Idiotically, she thought of a blood transfusion with needles and IVs. Biting back tears of frustration, she suddenly remembered a book Dumbledore had sent along, something about Advanced Healing. It was in Remus' room, but what was it called? She glanced once more at his still form before tearing up the stairs.

Hurriedly, she tore open the drawers in Remus' desk where she saw him put the books. The only things in the first row were three empty potion vials stuffed into the very bottom. Briefly, she puzzled over them. The labels…she knew them… Then shook it off. Questions could wait. In the second to last drawer, she found _Intricate and Complex Healing Methods_. With it in tow, she flew down the stairs once more.

Hermione flipped through the pages rapidly until she found 'blood replenishing.' Breathlessly, she read through the instructions, faltered a bit, and then determinedly took up her wand. Putting the book on the floor, she knelt next to Remus. Uttering a phrase at her wand, she enclosed her hand around it. She bit her lip hard in preparation. Quickly, she pulled her wand out from her fist. The knife-spell had done its work. Her palm glistened crimson.

Not wasting time, she placed her bleeding hand onto one of the larger cuts on his back. She started reading from the page. The incantation began to blur as Hermione felt herself being depleted of blood as it went into Remus. Swaying in place, she finished the last word. The edges of the world were fading for her. Through bad vision, she could tell that his back was no longer a red network of gashes, but were instead vibrant pink lines. Even his face seemed to have lost some of its chalk coloring. Her palm on the other hand was a different story.

Blearily, she dabbed potion onto it and wrapped it up. She was too drained from the previous spell to even try to repair her palm. Hermione took up some of the remaining cloth to bandage over Remus' back incase the magic holding accidentally split and it began to bleed anew. She pulled the covers up around his shoulders, being careful to place Remus' hurt arm. A quick setting charm put it back into proper position, but that was as far as her skills went. Another _Accio_ and quill, parchment, and the inconspicuous folder landed on the floor. Shakily she wrote out, "Send Madame Pomfrey. ASAP. An accident. I've tried my best. Remus in bad shape." Then promptly placed it in the folder and heard the _pop_ as it was sent.

She tenderly placed a kiss on his cheek before pulling over the unscathed wingback chair and putting it next to him. Her energy was waning once again. Wearily, Hermione sank down into the cushions then sat waiting for a reply and thankfully watching as Remus' steadily breathed in and out. _What in Merlin's name had happened?_

"I'll tell you what happened," said Mr. Granger in a roar, waving his hands about. "We let her go off to that blasted school. And now this!"

"Marcus," implored his wife, "do sit down; the mailman is watching you."

The tall, hefty man looked over his shoulder to see that indeed the carrier was interestedly looking into the bay windows. Mr. Granger quickly pulled the curtains shut and turned back to readdress his wife.

"Helen, you can't tell me that you have no regrets about what we did. A strange place we didn't know, where they taught her magic…and not to mention she got caught up this Potter fellow who seems to attract the worst attention! Now see what has happened. That bad luck has rubbed off on her and our little girl…"

Marcus Granger had to break off in mid-sentence as he was overcome with emotions. He held up a picture. A scratchy moving picture of a humanoid figure kicking. "Our little girl is expecting and we've got no clue as to much else," he said after regaining composure.

Taking his hand, Helen Granger tried to console him. "I don't know much about the Wizarding world, nor do I really care to. The place seems too scary for my taste, but our Hermione, she's a brave girl. Got some buck in her. I worry all the time though. I think about her all the time. I believe her assurances that she is well placed from harm, just as we are. She'll let us know anything as soon as she does. We've got to trust her like we always have."

Slowly, he nodded in agreement. "But you never…" he persisted.

"Not a day in my life did I regret sending her. Never," she added with emphasized certainty.

"Good. As long as one of us still believes that then maybe we've got some hope." He got up to put away his teacup in the kitchen when he added, "Next she'll be telling us about how she's holed up with some vampire or werewolf and then tell us not to worry! Probably with the vicious creature right now; they seem to run around readily enough in their world." He waved his hand vaguely at the door.

"Marcus," muttered Helen, rolling her eyes slightly. "Don't be so dramatic. She told us about one of her professors that was…" she searched for a euphemism, "afflicted," was what she settled on. "Hermione spoke well about him."

"Yes, yes. What's-his-face was nice, caring, and what-not until he's raving around trying to bite your blooming leg off. I say no thank you to that sort of company."

"I do believe his name was Professor Remus Lupin," she said, interrupting.

He looked incredulously at her. "What sort of nutter names their son that? Trying to curse him?"

"I wouldn't know. You were the one who came up with Hermione, remember?" She raised her eyebrows at him.

"Never mind…" he grumbled. "I don't care what his name is; I don't ever want to meet somebody who'd consider me for supper. He was smart for resigning when he did. Might have kept Hermione at home if he hadn't."

Helen had her hands at her hips, just staring at him. "You are a doddering old fool after all. There are these potions, Marcus, for people like him. Didn't you listen to Hermione when went over this the last time? Not to mention you are being completely prejudice…" she trailed off as he started to leave the room. "You come back here! Did I say I was finished?"

"No," hollered back Mr. Granger from down the hall, "But _I_ did."

"Mr. Shacklebolt!" yelled Helen, as she went to opposite direction looking for the Auror placed there for protection. "Would you kindly explain to Marcus about full moons once more? He's being…"

She looked around the corner into the back den and caught sight of his robe whipping around a door. "…stubborn again," she finished. "Fine," she breathed out. "Next time he wants me to take up his side in those stupid football arguments, forget it."

Her eyes fell on another ultrasound-like picture and under it in Hermione's neat handwriting it read, "Jonathon Marcus." Gently, she picked it up and traced a finger over the image. She didn't understand. She didn't understand anything at all. Why her? Why Hermione? A sob threatened to escape, but she held it back. She had to be the strong one to keep this fragile house of cards from falling in. It was all unfair. Helen couldn't be there when she got her checkups, thought of names, or even feel him move. Wiping her eyes hastily, she put the photo back and left the room, regaining her cheery composure.

Unfortunately, Kingsley Shacklebolt was in the kitchen when Mrs. Granger returned and immediately wished himself elsewhere as he saw her coming toward him with a grin on her face.

"Now, back to werewolves. You wouldn't mind giving that lecture again to Marcus would you."

He smiled slightly and longed to trade guarding duty with Remus at the moment. Not only to get out of the headache arguments, but wouldn't Mr. Lupin be surprised when he found out the person that could be guarding him would like to tear his blooming arm off, as he would put it. Or rather his daughter's arm at the moment. _Lupin. Lucky devil. _

Remus began to cough and he felt the innate need to cover his mouth, only to find his arm was not complaisant. It did not move at all and if he tried, an intense burning sensation emanated from his right shoulder outward. He now unfocusedly stared forward. To his surprise, he found himself surveying the living room from an elevated point and the fact that he was no longer on the wood floor. His eyes darted around as he continued to cough, looking around for Hermione. It was not long before she crossed his line of vision.

Instantly, he tried to get up, but soon a hand was softly applying pressure to his back and her voice above him entreated him not to move. "Don't. Don't," she said in a soft, hurried whisper as she knelt beside him. He saw her wince as she put her left hand down to steady her descent.

He felt his eyes flick over her, unable to believe it. Of course, he had made sure she was live, but seeing her up, moving, and in spite of everything, caring was beyond anything he had ever thought. She produced a glass and vigilantly watched as he swallowed some water down. The dry from his mouth gone, he tried to speak but she shook her head before bringing a vial to his mouth.

"It's for the pain," she said. Soon after, Remus indeed did feel a floating sensation travel down his body as the pain seemed to numb away. "That's better," Hermione smiled slightly in relief as she saw it take effect. Her hand was warm against his face as she caressed his cheek. He couldn't figure out how anyone could be so…

Suddenly though, a hand was helping her up and she escaped his vision. Soon, Madam Pomfrey's stern face appeared, but he noticed it soften as she drew closer and brought out her wand. "Let me set your arm, dear. Miss Granger informed me about the pain potion. You shouldn't feel a thing." With that he heard a sickening popping noise and braced himself for whatever else she decided to 'set.'

Dumbledore led Hermione over to then entrance of the kitchen and conjured up a squishy armchair for her before bidding her to sit. He noticed her cradling her left hand and asked, "What exactly happened, Miss Granger?"

"I-I," she faltered, "I'm not sure. It was like the Wolfsbane didn't work. There was a shield…and…and…then he just flew out the window…" She looked helplessly at him as if lost for words.

"Your hand. Let me look at it." She complied by holding it out.

Dumbledore undid the bandage. "It looks deep. He didn't give this to you, did he?" he asked softly.

"No," she answered quickly. "He had lost a lot of blood. I was worried that he wouldn't make it," she began to feel her outer walls crumble. "I did a blood replenishing charm and I needed another source. He pulled through." Hermione wiped at a stray tear. She watched Pomfrey sealing up Remus' back up more. "I didn't think he would."

After a quick prod from the wand, Dumbledore zipped back together Hermione's hand in time before she wrapped up in the chair and started letting the flood gates go. He wrapped an arm around her to comfort her and heard in between the silent hiccups, "I'm sorry, but I'm not strong at all. People always say that I am. But I'm not. I'm not."

A few hours later, Dumbledore sat next to a now sitting Remus. Hermione had been forced into bed by Madam Pomfrey after having one look at her and declaring her unfit to even be standing.

"Albus," started Remus in a hoarse voice, "you know what I'm about to say, but please, just listen. I'm a danger to myself, the mission, and her." He shifted his mended arm. "I want to be removed as acting Phoenix member in this operation and I believe someone more capable than me should step in to replace me. Before something much worse happens."

The older wizard regarded him for a moment then whispered, "She's listening at the top of the stairs." He continued in a normal voice, "You will remain at your post until done. A new uncontaminated supply of Wolfsbane will be sent shortly." Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "Much worse could happen. If guards were to be changed, Voldemort would note your sudden reappearance and you'd be taken within the hour for torture beyond even this until you revealed everything you knew."

His voice dropped low. "She'd never recover if you left, Remus. Neither of you would. You'd be fraught over the other's safety all the time. Nothing would be accomplished then. You will stay in position and report as usual. Understood? I can't bear another…"

In his mind, Remus finished it. He couldn't bear another repeat of Lily and James, but still neither of them was…

"Sir, I respect what you are saying, but you must realize that I'm still more of a threat by being around; no matter what good effects it has on her, on me."

Dumbledore simply stared at him. "Do not abandon your post. There are still parts yet to be played out in this." With that he blinked out, leaving two people with furrowed brows.

In his darkened cell, he sat straight against the cold wall. He hadn't seen the room around him in days since they stopped opening the slot or even taking him out for another round of torture.

He had his eyes closed, muttering to himself

"The lock and the key. The lock and the key. They must find each other. The lock and key. The lock and the key. The message is-"

He stopped short as the door banged open. "I'll show you a bloody lock an' key, you nutter. _Crucio!_"

Between shrieks, the entire dungeon was filled with "the lock and the key…the lock and the key…"


	22. Out of the Darkness

**AN:** /does the dance of the Update\ I've missed HG/RL in my life. It's a tad short, but it's something, right? I'd like to blame all typos on the fact I whipped this up in two days.

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**Last Chapter:** Dumbledore simply stared at him. "Do not abandon your post. There are still parts yet to be played out in this." With that he blinked out, leaving two people with furrowed brows.

Between shrieks, "The lock and the key…the lock and the key…"

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Creakily, he made his way up the stairs. He had removed the sling Poppy had put his arm in, along with the bandages that had crisscrossed his back. She could be overcautious about injuries sometimes though the excessive amount of dittany she spread on his back had helped erase the scarring effects from the night before. He felt himself tense as he heard movement in his bedroom. Since Dumbledore's visit, he had not left the sofa nor had he seen Hermione. Slowly, he peered into the doorframe.

She was gathering up a shredded pile of fabric and dumping it into a wastebasket. The rest of his room looked amazingly untouched except for the desk which had every drawer haphazardly pulled from it. She swung around to see him standing there before quickly diverting her eyes and busying herself elsewhere. As she pushed drawers back in, he came up behind her and simply said, "I'm sorry."

A brief pause and she answered quietly, "You're not the one who should be apologizing."

Incredulously, Remus looked at her, replacing a book before closing the last drawer. "What?" was all he managed to say.

"I said," Hermione looked up at him, "you're not the one who should be apologizing."

Far from comprehension, Remus placed his hands on her arms, "I'm not quite sure how that works. The other night I put you in the gravest danger possible. I could have bitten you. I could have hurt Jonathon. I could have killed you, Hermione. And you're telling me I'm not the one who should apologize? I'm surprised you're still able to stand here and let me even touch you after what happened. To say the least, I haven't a clue as to what you're getting at."

Hermione broke her gaze to look behind her at the desk. On the top sat a row of vials Remus hadn't noticed before. With a growing creep of dread, he recognized all four of them; three were never to be on display. He watched her pick up the one that used to contain the Wolfsbane. "This," she answered, brandishing it in his face. "It's all my fault. Dumbledore found it in the hall where you dropped it and found traces of sugar in it which-"

"Makes it completely useless," finished Remus. "How is that your fault? Snape prepared it; it had to have been him."

Her eyes were growing moist as she fervently shook her head in disagreement. "It wasn't. All those vials are from the same batch and the rest were fine. As soon as Dumbledore mentioned the sugar, I knew. I was making that potion the other day and the last ingredient was sugar."

She paused, biting down on her lip. Continuing, she explained, "There was a vial on the table; I knew I hadn't put it there, but I put the sugar in anyway. I didn't know it was your Wolfsbane. I-I should have realized and-and…" Hermione trailed off as pressed her lips together as if to hold off the mix of emotions she was holding back.

With great care, Remus gathered her into his arms and spoke into her hair, taking in the smell of raspberries that clung to it, "You of all people don't need to apologize. This wasn't your fault - you had no idea - and I don't want to hear anymore about how it is, alright?" He drew her back so he could look at her. Only a few tears trailed down her cheeks then in true Hermione fashion she opened her mouth to argue, but he cut her off, "Not another word."

She nodded, though very reluctantly, before taking on a tone that clearly channeled the older nurse, "What are you doing up anyway? Pomfrey expressively said bed rest for a few days and for you not to move an inch."

Twisting his arm around as if to prove his point, Remus said, "She underestimates the other attribute of lycanthropy, regeneration. If we didn't heal very quickly, doubt there'd be too many of us living to see another full moon."

Hermione rose from where they had been sitting on his bed, returning to the vials lined on the desk. "You need these for the full moon don't you?" She pointed at the first two. "Emotion Equilibrium and a senses duller. Why didn't you tell me you were out? I could have brewed you more."

Remus stared down at his hand; the ones that morphed into claws once a month. "Severus was making them for me; I didn't want to burden you with that." He glanced up at her and wished he hadn't because she was fixing him with a thoughtful look.

"You didn't want me to know," she added to the silence. "Is that why you kept them in the bottom drawer? Did you believe I would think less of you in some way?"

_Sometimes I hate it that she's so good,_ thought Remus as he tried to make his case, "I just didn't want you to know I needed such things. I've only been trying to shield you from the full moon, from seeing things like last night."

Clearing her throat, she said in a matter-of-fact tone, "I'll start on new batches of both tomorrow." She softened though the determination was not gone as she said, "I'm not a little girl, Remus; you can talk to me."

He caught her arm as she returned from putting up the vials. "I know," was all he said.

Hermione gave a slight nod then picked up the last vial, the AP on it glittering. "And this one," she said triumphantly as if she couldn't wait to get to it, "is going in the trash. You don't need it."

A flick of the wand and it soared into the trash bin with a satisfying clink. Remus looked on slightly aghast. "But…but… ever since I was bitten, I've taken that. What are people going to say if I stop taking it?"

"Aging Potion, Remus," started Hermione, one hand on her hip, "is not necessary. More than likely, people are going to compliment you instead of bothering you about it. It's completely silly to age yourself to such a degree."

"De-aging overnight is going to raise a few eyebrows. I'll look too young," said an exasperated Remus.

"As it's been wearing off," said Hermione, ignoring the look Remus gave her now of surprise, "you've only looked better. Well," she stopped as the look changed, "Remus, you looked good before…just now less…er…stressed and not so…uh…worn out."

She bent down and placed a kiss on his forehead. A grin on her face, she said, "Either way, you're still the most handsome and definitely sexist man I've ever met."

"Only men you're meeting these days are me, Severus, and Dumbledore," countered Remus.

"I'd figure you'd be glad to have beaten those two out," quipped back Hermione as she flashed him a mischievous smile and strolled out into the hall toward her room.

"You're not getting away that easily," said Remus as he got up to follow her.

Once in her room, he grabbed her from behind, causing her to startle. Turning around, Hermione quickly found her lips occupied. Remus broke apart and asked seriously, "How's Jonathon?"

She took both his hands and placed them on what she had been referring to as 'the beach ball' of late. "He's fine," she answered, driving back his worries. "Just as active," Hermione flashed back to the shield, "as always."

"Good," he said, then wrapped his arms around her again. Hermione returned the hug and placed her head on his chest. It was as if he feared he would lose them both if he ever let go.

"Remus?" said Hermione, her eyes locked on the bottom drawer of her bedside table. His hidden secret had been revealed, but hers was still locked up tight.

"Mmhmm," he said, pulling back to look at her.

She glanced quickly up at him and back down before her eyes set on him again. "I've just been meaning to tell you about -," she paused and found she could go no further. His waiting, expectant face, so full of trust, stopped her. She couldn't break that.

Putting on a quick smile, she finished, "I just wanted to say how glad I am that you're okay. I was so worried."

Remus expressed reassurances to her about himself again and he watched as her face betrayed that she had meant to say more. But what?

_Flashes of images fly past her as she tried to focus on the person moving forward in front of her. _

"_What's happening?" she tried to yell over the din. _

_Megan Hollowell only shook her head, indicating she couldn't hear what Hermione was saying to her. She opened her mouth and Hermione watched her lips move but no sound came from them. Instead the other witch grabber her hand and pulled her along._

_The surroundings faded from vision to only darkness as solitary harsh screams and cries of pain pervaded her hearing. As she fumbled around blindly, she felt a cold hand grab her ankle. She furiously shook it loose before nearly breaking into a sprint. _

_Close to her ear, the familiar voice said, "Almost there…so close…almost…"_

With a start, Hermione jerked awake on the living room couch as cheery beams of late afternoon sunshine shown in through the repaired bay window. Sitting up, she pressed a hand to her forehead before feeling on her ankle where the hand had touched her. It felt cooler than the rest of her body.

She didn't know how long she had fallen asleep on the couch and speedily jumped up to prevent that from happening again. Not that she felt she could close her eyes and not wait in apprehension for those sounds to fill her head again. Looking around the repaired and much neater looking room, she left in search of the only other sole occupant of the house.

At the moment, she didn't want to feel alone.

Remus was seated at the kitchen table, pouring over a slip of paper. One look at his grave face and Hermione knew that whatever it said, it was far from good. Sitting down, she waited for him to explain.

Sighing, he put the paper down on top of the folder. "It's from Dumbledore. I don't know how long it's been in here; he hasn't dated it. He says he didn't want to worry us unnecessarily since we already have enough to deal with."

"And?" prompted Hermione after a pause.

"It seems an explosion occurred in the dungeons. Snape was down there at the time. They initially feared him dead; the debris was packed into the space."

"Initially? That means that don't anymore?" said Hermione in a flurry.

"They've looked through it thoroughly and no sign of him. Later, it was discovered he responded to an Order distress call right before the explosion. The only person they found from the call's coordinates was the body of Susan Campbell."

"Not Susan," interjected Hermione with a stunned expression.

"I'm afraid so," answered Remus. "There was sign of a struggle and no traces of Severus there. Through Portkey tracing, they found two people arrived at the glade and three people left."

"He's been captured. So, he could still be alive, then?" asked Hermione, trying to put the best spin on it.

"It looks like he has, but," here Remus took her hand, "that doesn't guarantee his life. I shudder at the thought of what Voldemort would do to a traitor to him like Severus." He felt Hermione shiver involuntarily at Voldemort's name. "But he's amazingly resolute when he puts his mind to it, so I'd like to think there's some hope for him."

"But it's not likely," said Hermione quietly.

Remus' eyes avoided hers until he finally looked up and answered, "No, it's not."

The clock next to her bed blinked 12:34 am. Hermione sat straight up in bed just as she had ever since she first laid there at 10:00. She had refused to shut her eyes; the thought of the insane dream that had happened during a nap seemed to only intensify as the night wore on. Finally, she let out a long breath and faced the facts. She'd have to wake up Remus or else she'd never make it sanely through the night.

Creeping along, she entered his room. This time she had a different approach; she'd just out right tell him instead of giving him a shock by being there the next morning. Silently, she crouched by his bed and nearly recanted the whole thing right there as she watched him sleep so peacefully. Getting some gumption, she barely whispered out, "Remus."

"Uh?" he answered groggily.

"Remus," she repeated a little louder.

Another incoherent response was all she got.

_Some werewolf senses! _Hesitantly, she placed a hand on his shoulder and gently shook him and repeated his name for a third time, "Remus!"

"What? What is it, Hermione? Something wrong," he said as his eyes snapped open and he sat up in bed.

She suddenly felt stupid for why she had woken him up and could only look at her bare feet. "Ummm…nothing's wrong. I was just wondering…ah…if I could-"

Without her finishing, he slid over in the bed to allow her room to get in. As he pulled the covers over them, she rolled over and said, "I just didn't want to be alone tonight."

His hand found hers in the dark and he kissed her fingers laced with his before pulling her close. Hermione at last felt herself settle down as she could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest against her back. His hand was her only anchor as she slipped away into oblivion and she knew it wasn't going to be a blissful one.

"_How about you freak out at your last visit," hissed Megan as Hermione opened her eyes to an environment she had only seen parts of before._

"_I was stuck in a damn whirlwind of colors and noise! What did you expect?" she answered, matching the others tone._

"_I don't control how you get here or how you experience it; I'm just here to get you from point A to point B, okay?" said Megan defensively._

"_Okay, okay," said Hermione, her hands up in front of her. "Fine, but last time you said we were almost there. So, I'd rather like to get this little house of horrors out of my head so I can sleep in peace every once in awhile."_

"_Not sleeping bad now, are you?" winked the other._

_Hermione blushed furiously following Megan down a maze of barely lit corridors. "Excuse me, how did you even-?"_

"_I know people and I know emotions. You're radiating some major man-happiness, through that evil glare, I can tell. Now let's go," and grabbed Hermione's hand leading her to a dead-end hallway._

_When they entered another hall lined with heavy door and guards that occasionally opened slots in the door, the screams from earlier came back. They were cries of pain, loss, misery, and surrender. Maniacal laughter came from one as a guard opened the slot and cursed the prisoner into silence._

"_These are the dungeons. This is the lowest level for the people who are the highest offenders," explained Megan in hushed tones though no one took any notice of them._

_At last she led Hermione to a door on the right and pointed at it. "There. _Down it lies in the dark, waiting_," she repeated the line she had told Hermione earlier. "Go and find out what's waiting."_

_Hermione stepped forward then looked back. "Are you not coming with me?"_

_Megan only shook her head. "Only Point A to Point B. You're on your own now." Then amazingly she shook Hermione's hand and said, "Good luck and I hope you and the kid give that bastard Voldemort hell." _

_She could only nod and say, "Thank you," as Megan Hollowell waved and faded away._

_Turning back around, she faced the door and slowly opened it._

His body stiffened at the noise. It was as if the door was creaking, but it wasn't moving. Another thing to add toward his list of reasons why he knew he was going insane. The next thing though he was not prepared for and cemented the fact that he had lost his mind. A very familiar female voice said his name, from _inside_ his cell.

"Professor? Professor Snape?" she repeated.

Cautiously, he raised his head in search of a source. Nothing at first then, materializing out of a corner was a silhouette. He couldn't help but gape openly as it took shape into a very solid-looking, very pregnant Hermione Granger.

"Either you've died or I have," he said to the apparition.

"Merlin," she said, kneeling next to him, "I don't what the bloody hell this is, but I'm certainly not dead and thank God that you aren't either." With that Hermione did something she never thought she'd ever do, she flung her arms around the old Potions Master and hugged him.

Strangely enough, Snape could feel the embrace as if she was really there. All the strain of imprisonment and seeing her, brought everything in him to a head and he chocked out while trying to keep a calm façade, "Hermione, I'm very sorry for the position I put you in. If had had any idea of what he had been plotting, I would have stopped it. You don't deserve to go be in such a situation, one that has me in it in the worst possible way."

"This isn't your fault and you're in it worse than I am. As soon as I wake up, I'll inform Dumbledore about this and we're going to get you out of here," promised Hermione.

"Wake up?" Snape looked at her strangely.

Hermione nodded. "This is just a dream for me. Megan Hollowell has been leading me to you."

"But she's dead," stated Snape.

"I know," she whispered. "It's all very confusing; I have no idea. Some nonsense about people higher up ordering her around."

Snape stared in front of him into the semidarkness. "You'll never get me out of here. It's protected with a charm and only Voldemort can give up the location. Doubt you're going to sway him otherwise."

"Don't say that," she answered. "You're getting out. You have to see Jonathon and in order for that to happen, you've got to get out of here."

Snape smiled slightly. "Jonathon? I bet Lupin was happy when he heard that. You know, when he's not sprouting hair periodically, he _might_ be an okay dad." The next part was mumbled, "Couldn't be worse than his teaching."

Hermione opened her mouth to talk, but the jingle of keys stopped them both. "Someone is coming," hissed Snape.

"I don't think they can see me," said Hermione anxiously. The door's lock rattled as someone started to open it.

"Before you go," said Snape frantically as Hermione stood up, "I've got to tell you something. They've told me to tell you."

"What? Who?" she asked her eyes going from him to the door and back.

"I've been hearing them. I'm supposed to tell you," he stopped as the door opened and a guard stood in relief against the light. He showed no sign of seeing Hermione.

As the other man entered the room, she could feel herself being pulled away, growing fainter in the cell.

In a rush, Snape yelled out to her, "The lock and key must find each other. The lock and the key."

"I told you to shut up abou' that," growled the guard as he raised his wand.

The last thing Hermione saw before her eyes snapped open was Snape screaming to her not to forget and a violent red light coming down on him.

Her breathing caught in her throat as she woke up miles away from where she had been just before. The calm of the night sharply contrasted the high anxiety from the cell. Unknowingly, she squeezed Remus' hand she was still holding hard in response to the rush of coming back. She felt him stir next to her and she quickly rolled over to face him.

"Remus," she said, almost breathlessly as if she had just come back from a run. Hermione disentangled their hands and placed it on the side of his face, feeling the stubble from where he hadn't shaved.

"Hmmm, Hermione," he answered, his eyes gradually opening and a smile playing on his lips as his hand traced up her arm to where she held his face.

"I just had a dream," she said.

"Of what?" he asked, yawing at the end.

"It was of Snape," she said her eyes wide. "I visited him and he's not dead."


	23. The Unraveling

**AN:** If you reviewed and didn't get a reply, I sent one but then the page couldn't be found…so…I'm sorry for that! Or I possibly thought I already sent you one… Don't let my ignorance deter you from leaving another review. Or if you got two…well…my lands, I'm so disorganized! From now on, I'm going to reply to reviews ASAP instead of in one lump!

Sorry for the delay. I've had school, softball, new job, a dental dilemma, and even a death, but summer is here and I hope to have more free time.

Thanks to all my reviewers for sticking with me despite my inconsistencies, inability to spell at times and for my super random ADD moments! Gracias to the anonymous guys out there! Remember…gah…my thanks are no longer here!

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**Last Chapter:** "Merlin," she said, kneeling next to him, "I don't know what the bloody hell this is, but I'm certainly not dead and thank God that you aren't either."

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"I just had a dream," she said.

"Of what?" he asked, yawing at the end.

"It was of Snape," she said, her eyes wide. "I visited him and he's not dead."

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"You did what?" repeated Remus for what seemed to Hermione the hundredth time.

"I told you. I saw Snape in Voldemort's dungeons. He's not dead, Remus, I was there. Megan Hollowell has been leading me to him." Her anxious face watched as he stood, pacing back and forth. Remus was experiencing a severe case of bed head as his tousled hair stuck up oddly above his wrinkled in brow, furrowed in rapid thought.

He paused and gave her a nonplussed look. "Hermione, she's dead. How is what you're saying even possible? No magic can bring back the dead in any form."

"She's a Seer, Remus, and far from alive." Feeling exasperated, she continued, "I told you, I don't know how this is happening. Something about being stuck on the spiritual astral plane. But I'm not going crazy. It was more than just a dream; I was in those dungeons…with all the screaming." She closed her eyes and shook her head at the memory. It's not as if she went around asking to see these things.

"Okay…okay." He reclaimed his seat next to her and rubbed her arm soothingly. "If you were still having problems sleeping…with dreams, why didn't you come to me? Remember I said you could come and get me if this persisted. If I had had any indication-"

Hermione pressed her lips together, picking at his bedspread before looking at him. "I learned how to not scream out, even with all the dead people and Death Eaters." She sighed. "Maybe it was I just somehow knew that you'd dismiss these like the very first one I had."

"I didn't dismiss it; I rationalized it. Trying to make some sense of what happened. Just like I'm doing right now. Trying to make sense of what you are telling me. So, she guided you to Snape and you two talked?"

Her face continued to hold an unsure look, but she dignified his question, "Yes, like I said, I walked right into his cell and spoke to him plain as day. Gave him a terrible shock. He looked awful, completely pale, almost lifeless and very cold."

The description did not seem to cause any major outward stirrings of sympathy for Snape's plight (sounded like how Severus looked on a normal basis); instead Remus looked on more concerned as Hermione stared in thought at the floor with upset consuming her features. He risked stroking her back since she had moved a bit down the bed from him earlier. Softly, he asked, "What exactly did he tell you? Anything that could be of any help?"

"Mostly, the fact about how sorry he was, but," she glanced at him unsurely again, "you're going to think this sounds completely ridiculous."

He hastily shook his head. "No, go on."

"Then he told me something rather…odd. He said, 'They told me to tell you. The lock and key must find each other. Don't forget.'" She paused in her own bewilderment of the statement, her mouth open briefly, before shrugging. "I don't know what he meant by that."

Tiredly, Remus thought, _Great. Everyone's a psychic now. Let's all predict the future. _"He's been in that dungeon for awhile now. He could have been babbling anything."

"No," quickly cut in Hermione. "You didn't see his face when he said that. You didn't see him being tortured and still yelling out to me. He wasn't a lunatic; he was sane. Before that, he was talking about you as if nothing had happened."

"Hermione, you know I've never taken much stock in divination. Dreams, teacups, divine voices. This could all just be an expression of you trying to tie up the loose ends with him, to set it right."

She shot him an angry glare, her eyes filled with frustrated tears. "Yet, when Dumbledore read the prophecy, you believed it. Without even the paternity potion, which blew sky high, you believed the father was Snape. I never heard you once offer up an alternate. This," she grabbed his hand and placed it on her abdomen, "is not a dream. This is real. My dream is not Dumbledore with a slip of paper and all the answers. You can't hold it in your hand. Why can't you just take me at my word?"

He wanted to say 'Yes, Hermione, I believe you', but he kept analyzing it. There were too many variables, too many _others_. "What if it was some sort of dark ploy to get you to do or believe something that's false? What if they're trying to use your dreams against you?"

"So now you're admitting I had these dreams?" she blasted back, arms crossed. The infamous Granger look was nearly searing him in two.

They were getting nowhere with this. Sighing, he said, "I never denied the fact you had any dreams. I'm just-I'm just trying to piece this all together."

He rubbed his eyes and slowly reopened them. His gaze soon locked on something he hadn't noticed yet. Before she could pull away, he gently brushed bits of gravel that clung to her dimpled-in knees. She looked down just as amazed as him. "Where did that come from?"

She hastened to brush off the rest. "I've never brought anything back before…"

"But you never left the bed. I never felt you get up," he reasoned.

"I didn't," reinforced Hermione, and then conceded, "Physically, that is…"

"Then where did this come from?"

Hermione was still rubbing her knees as if it would smooth out where the stones had left impressions. "When I knelt next to Snape in the dungeons."

Absentmindedly, Remus crushed the gravel between his fingers. "I think we should tell Dumbledore."

A blank gray ceiling was all he could see as he felt another object collide with his back. The massive Death Eater was dragging him along the ground as if he had a handle and four wheels. Which he didn't, of course, but it would have been handy at the moment. Soon though his vision went briefly to black as he soon recognized the ever popular interrogation room. It went blindingly bright as a light flared to life. He was shoved into a cold, metal chair that quickly bound him to it with tight restraints.

With a quick snap of fingers, his face collided with the equally chilly and quite metallic table and a fresh onslaught of blood poured from his nose. _You'd think I would have run out of blood by now and wouldn't bleed so…_ he thought sardonically.

"Snape," said a colorless voice, emerging from the shadows, "what am I to do with you?"

"Let me go," he said, grinning enough to show his red-rimmed mouth.

His request did not get a reply instead Voldemort came in closer to him. "It seems you've been trained too well. Torture hasn't yielded me any answers," another snap of the fingers, another blow to the face, "Prewett here says your constant ramblings don't count, and you've taken so many concoctions that serums aren't effective until it's in high dosages." Closer to Snape's face, he said, "Can't have you ODing on me, I need what's up here," Voldemort tapped his head, "I need her location."

Sniffing as if to steam the flow, Snape said, "Even if I were to tell you, you still can't find her. Sorry, only a Secret Keeper can. Too bad Pete can't do it twice, eh?"

In response, Voldemort roughly grasped Snape's face. "There's something up here, Severus," he pressed a long white finger hard against Snape's temple, "and every bit of information I extract from you will lead me closer to the Mudblood."

A quick flick and another chair appeared in the room. Voldemort pulled it up next to him and sat down. Stroking the side of his face, he looked Snape over before saying, "How's your Occlumency these days?"

Immediately, Snape mentally started to shut him out, closing his eyes. "_Legilimens_," was shouted. He was too weak; the torture had been going on for too long. The walls were crumbling as Voldemort grasped his face, forcing his eyes open to look at him. _No…no…_ He struggled back, but eventually images began rapidly unfolding in his mind.

_His mother standing over a cauldron, beckoning to him. He did not go as he caught sight of his angry father behind her. It was the day before his eighth birthday._

_Hogwarts and his first sight of Lily Evans. How he thought she radiated. Another flash as Lucius Malfoy told him that she was another dirty Mudblood. He watched her sit by James Potter. She smiled as something another Gryffindor said causing her face to light up._

_The Shrieking Shack. He had finally caught Sirius. He was his for the taking, after all Sirius had done to him, it was time for payback, but then Potter turned his wand on him and all went black._

_He was back in her hidden room. Grasping her still form, he placed a Disillusion charm on her before carrying her out the door. Quickly, he made his way to an Apparation-safe room then turned out of sight as people rushed down the hall, yelling._

_Dumbledore motioned him to his office, handing him a sheet of paper…_ No, he couldn't see this. He couldn't… _Dumbledore disappeared and he made his way to the Hospital Wing. Pomfrey needed to know where she was and Dumbledore had received urgent news. Snape had to give her the address. He looked down at the paper, the loopy handwriting… _And at the same time tried to look away… _Lupin Lea, 1101 Kingsdown Road_… _He gave it to her and watched as she nodded then stuck it in a drawer…_

His breathing was heavy as he emerged. How he hated the look of smug triumph that graced the other's pale features. "Just because you know, doesn't mean you can find her. You could have your face pressed against the glass and never know."

The haughty look never wavered as he muttered 'Wormtail' and pressed a finger to Snape's exposed Dark Mark. He let out a hiss of pain. Portly and mousy as ever, Pettigrew appeared at his master's side. Never breaking his gaze on Snape, he said, "Wormtail, I have a job that requires your rat-like abilities."

"Yes, sire anything. What is your c-c-command?" He bowed deeply, ignoring Snape.

"Get into Hogwarts, search the Hospital Wing and anything of Poppy Pomfrey, and bring me back everything that has 'Lupin Lea, 1101 Kingsdown Road' written on it."

"Will do, my lord." He bowed deeply again, repeatedly.

"Now," uttered Voldemort lowly, causing Wormtail to jump and Disapparate. He pointed to Severus. "Take him back to his cell and give him something to drink. He looks worn out."

The Death Eater nodded and once again grabbed Snape roughly by the collar while the restraints fell away. This time the trip went much faster as the torches flickered rapidly past him and the now familiar gaping hole of his prison chamber soon loomed in front him as he was thrown back inside. "What about that drink?" asked Snape before the door was shut on him. "I prefer Scotch on the rocks, if that's not too much to ask."

A snarl of annoyance was his only answer, but the door remained open as the Death Eater bowed out of the doorway. _Oh great, he's back_. He stood up slowly as Voldemort sauntered inside, holding two very different things in his hands. One actually held a glass. As Snape took it from the other, it filled with a clear liquid. Thinking it water, he took a giant swing. He coughed as it burned. The bastard had given him vodka. Voldemort laughed as he slapped the glass from the other's hand and replaced it with the milky white sphere. "No one said you'd get to pick your preferred poison."

Doubled over, Snape looked at the orb in his hands. It held the very information that had damned him. The prophecy. "A little something for you," said Voldemort in a hiss, "since you broke it the last time you handled it. They aren't the easiest things to repair."

He pressed a button on the side. A flickering image emerged, blinking until it finally came to life. Megan Hollowell opened her mouth and stuttered the first few words before finishing her sentence to only skip back to where she had started. "It only does that one part, over and over and over. I thought you'd enjoy some company."

Putting a hand to Snape's chest, he pushed the already swaying man to the ground then swept out with his crony in step. He stayed sprawled out on his back as the words filled the silent space. Each one, as it was hauntingly repeated, burned deeper and deeper into his head until he was able to mouth along with her. Every time it came to a certain phrase, he muttered one word a little louder. Again and again and again. How could he have been so stupid? In that one moment, as he had scrawled out what she had said, his ears had betrayed him, his pen had slipped.

He had been wrong.

It was wrong.

_Everything_ was wrong.

The soft scratch of tiny nails followed him as he walked down the hall, but he never noticed. Dumbledore said the password and entered his office without incident, paying no heed to the beady eyes watching him. He sat down at his office desk, opened a plain folder, and quickly began scrawling on a sheet of paper. Pausing, he seemed to be reading something new on it before writing intently again.

In a silent _poof_, the furry deviant disappeared; satisfied with the knowledge it had gained. His primary obstacle was preoccupied and his task was made that much simpler. A high pitch squeak was all he could muster for an evil laugh.

Reappearing in a different room, he scurried between the multitudes of white linen draped beds to a side door. Squeezing underneath the door's gap, his black eyes reflected the image of an empty office. With a slight pop, a man, not a rat, stood in Hogwart's Hospital Wing as he began ripping open drawers with disabandonment. Papers soon littered floor as he made quick work of the desk.

He gave an animalistic snarl as he emerged from the pile empty handed. Looking around the room, he spied a fireplace. It had been recently used as a disposal with charred remains of parchment poking out of it. Taking a few crisp slips out, he read only _Lupi_ on one as the rest ended in a blackened curl. Briefly thinking, he tapped the remnant with his wand. A gray swirl of ash spun from between the logs as it attached itself to reform a complete strip of paper.

_Lupin Lea, 1101 Kingsdown Road_

Wormtail grinned while he stuffed it into his inside cloak pocket. The smirk was soon wiped from his face though as the lock jiggled and someone began to enter the room. Whoever it was seemed to be having a difficult time with the lock. A speedy turn, a quick swish and he became a rat once more with the room back in order. Disappearing down a mouse hole, he barely heard the door thud open and the click of rapid moving heels toward his exit.

At the moment, he really didn't care. He had gotten what he had come for. All he needed to do was Apparate back to Master and present the information. Maybe he would finally get the credit he had long deserved, perhaps a reward to go with it. A captured Mudblood of his own would do nicely. Preferably the one he had wanted before, but Severus had stopped him short. _Doubt he'll be alive to do that again_, he chuckled inwardly, speeding down the dark tunnel.

"Ron, what are you looking for?" asked Harry, glancing up as the other poured over a worn piece of parchment.

His eyes never left the sheet as he answered tersely, "You know what."

"Don't tell me you're looking for her again." He put down his Transfiguration book to stare at Ron who was avoiding his gaze now. After not getting an answer, he got up to sit next to him and see if he could wrestle away the Marauder's Map from his obsessive eyes.

Ron scooted the Map away from Harry as the other's hand reached over for it. "You don't know, Harry. She could be back at any moment. I'd like to know the instant that is."

"You know she's not; she tells us every time we get something from her, alright? If she did, don't you think we'd be the first to know about it?"

"Well maybe if you seemed to care a bit more, you'd understand." Seeing the instant hurt in the other's eyes, he relented, "I was nearly finished, anyway."

"Here, Ron," Harry said softly as he began to turn the pages inward. "I care just as much as you, but I-" He paused.

"But what?" asked Ron.

Harry continued to stare wide eyed at the upper corner. "It can't be." His finger traced a swiftly moving dot in the Hospital Wing, and then abruptly brought the map under his nose for scrutiny. "It's him!" he yelled, causing many heads in the room to turn. He shoved it toward Ron, pointing.

"Wormtail," said Ron with equal astonishment, matching Harry's volume. "We've got to tell Dumbledore. What the hell is he doing in the castle?"

They stood up, knocking over the table, and dashed out the portrait hole as the rest of the Gryffindors sat bewildered.

"What do you mean the writing just stopped?"

"He was in mid-sentence and it trailed off. I don't – no wait – he's back. He's very sorry about cutting this short, but there has been an urgent development that has happened at the castle. An alleged sighting. He will get back in touch ASAP to continue and with news."

"A sighting? What sort of sighting?" asked Hermione, leaning over to get a better look at the paper.

"He…doesn't say, but if it was something to be worried about I'm sure he'd tell us." Remus studied the paper a bit longer before flipping the folder closed and looking at her who was nodding absentmindedly in agreement. "Are you feeling any better about those dreams?"

"You mean, do I feel any less crazy now?" She gave him a knowing look. "I guess so. I know what Harry's been going through all these years now. It really does bite seeing things no one else can." Hermione started pushing herself up out of the chair. Seeing some difficulty, Remus helped her up. Her hand did not leave his. He couldn't help but smile a bit at it. Remus took it as a sign that she had forgiven his unbelief and he breathed easier knowing he wouldn't have to bear the Granger stare for awhile.

"It's a nice day outside," he observed, looking out on the brightly lit back yard.

"What are we standing in here for?" asked Hermione as she pulled him out the door, grinning. As the sunshine poured down from the sky, she let it wash away the darkness from the other night. She took a slow seat on a stone bench and with Remus' protective arm around her back and her head resting on his shoulder; she felt that none of the world's troubles could touch her. A dark cloud passing over the sky prophesized otherwise.

The leering face in the door slot blocked the hall's light. A voice, labored by heavy breathing, floated from the pointed face, "Who is the incompetent one now, Severus?" A slip of parchment was waved tauntingly. "Who is powerless now? The Dark Lord is going to reclaim what is rightfully his and this time you won't be able to stand in his way."

"Cut the evil banter, Wormtail. You were never any good at it. So, you're finally able to curry favor with Voldemort without having to lose an appendage. Well done." Snape gave a weak clap. "Bravo. Now will you please remove yourself from my cell? It's beginning to smell worse in here."

"Your time is running short, Severus. It's possible it could be extended if you could keep that mouth of yours shut." And then the slot banged shut.

"Wouldn't dream of it!" he yelled back. The realization began crashing around his sarcastic façade. They now had the location of Hermione, written out in Dumbledore's, their Secret Keeper's, handwriting. It was only a short matter of time before their attack plan was finalized and they struck. He had to get out here, they had to be warned.

Snape stared down at the pale sphere next to him. He had to be told. It had to be set right. Silently, he clutched the orb to him, the words still easily heard though it was silent. Everything was up to Snape. _How terribly anticlimactic of me having to be the hero_, he thought sardonically. With everything falling apart, at least he still had his humor. He had to get up and make an attempt to escape, but his arms and legs just wouldn't cooperate until finally he felt he had no strength left to even think.

He realized he had been nodding off when his eyes snapped wide awake to the sound of his heavy cell door creaking open. The shadowed figure quickly entered, closing the entrance behind him. Roughly, he grabbed up Snape and began moving him out. The globe inside Snape's upper pocket banged against his chest as he was pulled forward.

"What the hell is going on?" he hissed out.

"I've found my other door and I'm taking it," the hooded man answered cryptically.

"Avery?" said Snape, astonished.

"Yeah, I'm getting out of this business. Your freedom in exchange for Order protection for my family. A fair deal, no?" He continued pulling Snape.

Snape dug in his heels. "Wait a minute. What's the catch here?"

"Keep your bloody voice down. There's no catch." They paused at the dungeon's exit with Avery checking the hall for the all clear. "I've been given a recent assignment I can't go through with." Another pause, followed by an obscenity, "I forgot to Disillusion you."

Soon Snape found himself quite transparent as they continued to climb out of the dungeons. "And what assignment was that?"

"The Dark Lord told me to kill my granddaughter. She's been labeled a Squib. I couldn't do. She's only five for Merlin's sake, plenty of time for magical activity to still happen." He gave Snape a steady look. "I've been looking for a way out and this is going to work. That little Seer said it would. She's been right about everything else."

Snape was silent. He hadn't the faintest idea what Avery was mumbling about now. Something about prophecies and how that mumbo-jumbo was turning out to be more real then he had ever expected. They were nearly to the point where Apparation could be achieved when they passed a room lit by one candle, splashing a small halo of light on a multitude of papers. Voldemort's stash of Dark books, sort of like an evil library. Even material written by his own hand. He pulled on Avery's arm to stop his procession down the hall.

"What is it, Snape? We don't have time for this. Anybody could find you missing at any time! The guards' rounds are soon to change." He looked panicked down the still deserted corridor.

"It'll only take a second." He limped in the room and grasped a handful of handwritten pieces of parchment paper, all clearly inscribed in Voldemort's scrawl. A faint triumphant smile played underneath Snape's hooked nose as he stuffed the goods into one of his pockets.

His smug expression didn't waver as he said simply, "Two can play at this game."


	24. Gone

**AN: **I'm seriously considering putting _Beauty and the Beast _and _Cherry Lipstick _on hiatus until I'm done with this one. Not that they haven't really been on one already! But it wouldn't be a very long break since _Refuge_ is reaching its ending. GASP! Now if only I could update faster and get this sandwich smell out of my clothes!

BTW – Reviewers…ya'll totally rock my socks. Thanks for sticking with me in my constant love of procrastination, plot holes, and punctuation errors. Your words of encouragement keep my fingers at the keyboards!

* * *

**Last Chapter: **He had been wrong. It was wrong. _Everything_ was wrong.

* * *

The budding, spring world outside, full of waiting promises, stood silent. Hermione could see out the window from her position, noting the trees that did not sway and the fact that all the birds had stopped their chatter. Feeling the baby move toward the side she was laying on, her discomfort of having the bulge press up against her drove her to flop over, none too gracefully, on her right side. Expecting him to be sleeping (though her constant movement should have prevented that), Hermione rolled over and was startled to see Remus staring at her. 

"What are you doing awake?" she whispered lowly as if trying not to disturb someone else sleeping.

"How could I sleep?" he countered with an amused look on his face. She actually looked very guilty as he said that, not noticing his good-humored expression.

"Maybe I should go back to sleeping in my room then if…if…it's that bad." She began rising up, her hair illuminated from behind by a quarter moon, cutting a sharp figure against the light. But his hand on her shoulder brought her back down slowly.

"I was only joking with you, love." He pulled her in close to him under the covers. Gently, he placed soft kisses on her eyelids, and then moved to the rest of her face, ending with her mouth. They paused in that moment before Hermione broke it with a content sigh and burrowed closer to Remus.

She asked again, muffled, "Why were you really awake?" Her eyes were closed as she rested against his chest. The steady beat of his heart was such a comforting sound and she found herself being lulled back to sleep.

"I was thinking," was his answer. He did not elaborate as to what he was pondering as he simply continued playing with her hair. Yet another reason she was having trouble staying awake.

"Remus," her smile was evident through her voice, "what have I told you about thinking?"

"I don't exactly recall right-" but he stopped short as her mouth found a sensitive spot on his neck.

"I…told…you…" each word was punctuated with another kiss as she made her way up, "that…you…think…" She paused, level with his face, "too much." A slightly devilish grin graced her features before she emphasized the last two words with a rather hard kiss on the mouth which Remus was more than glad to return.

Remus had often thought if Hermione hadn't been pregnant she would have already pounced him on several occasions. She might look all innocent with her nose stuck in those books, but underneath all that was some kind of fire, just burning to get out. Remus was feeling its heat at the moment and it was scorching.

They were both wide awake now as she absentmindedly caressed his cheek and queried, "And what precisely were you thinking about?"

"Oh, everything." A skeptic look from Hermione spurred him on. "You, me, us." He stared out behind her for a bit as the moon sat lower in the sky. "That," he added softly then Hermione felt a warm weight on her abdomen, "and this."

"And what have you concluded?"

"I think it's looking like everything might just turn out alright. What do you think?"

Giving him a swift peck on the cheek, she answered, "I think I have to dash off to the bathroom." Then she did just that, but one couldn't really call her speed a dash. At the door she paused, smiling, "On the other note, I think you could be right."

Remus rolled over to look at the clock. She had gone three hours. That had to be some sort of pregnancy record for longest time between bathroom visits. His drooping eyes snapped open as he detected a slight sound in the hall. Shrugging back down into the covers, he dismissed it as Hermione and waited for her to come back.

She dried her freshly-washed hands on the towel hanging next to the sink. Pausing, she could have sworn she heard a creak of the floorboards. The hall looked the same as it always did as she opened the door and made her way back to Remus' room. Abruptly, she was yanked backwards and a hand clamped itself tightly over her mouth before she had a chance to scream. The other dark-robed arm held her arms fast as she tried to flay violently against it. Slowly, she was dragged backwards farther away from the bedroom. Farther away from Remus. A ring on the hand nearly smothering her was cutting into her lip.

"Easy, little Mudblood. Don't worry; we won't be killing you tonight," he barely whispered in her ear after she stopped thrashing around. She tried to jerk her head back from his finger that slowly stroked her face. He couldn't help but chuckle lowly as more black forms soundlessly materialized. He looked down at the helpless piece of dirt in his grasp. This was too easy at times.

He grinned confidently at the others that were assembling then pointed to the door on his left. Suddenly though his coolness evaporated as he felt himself growing uncomfortably hot. Trying to hold to her was like trying to hold a fire. Becoming too much, he let her go in a frenzy and pushed her away; his clothes smoking, edges in flames.

Wild-eyed, Hermione took in the hulking black robes that quickly descended upon her as soon as she stumbled into the hall's opposite wall. Tendrils of faint smoke rose from her body and she clutched her abdomen in a sudden pain. One thought came to her mind. Scream. "Remus!"

* * *

"Sit here." 

Snape was slowly lowered into an ornate wooden chair in the Averys formal parlor. A cold was creeping in as the fire, having not been stoked, began to die and the high vaulted ceilings let the little heat remaining escape upward. The rest of the family was at their summer residence, leaving the house vacant. He huddled in on himself as he looked intently at the paper in his hand, his wand continually prodding the paper, violently at times. A few times he would swish it quickly to the left or right and in a sideways **S **pattern. Furrowing his brow, he nodded to himself in a sense of accomplishment before finally glancing up at the other man.

"I need an owl," Snape said urgently, trying to stand.

Avery pushed him back down. "Keep your seat." He eyed the piece of parchment and the jumbled letters encircling something in the middle. "Are you going to tell me what you've been doing?"

"Evening the odds. This needs to be sent to Albus right away. He must be warned about the upcoming attack." He began to stand again and waved off Avery. "An owl, if you don't mind."

Avery looked put-off by Snape's guardedness, but after a moment, he stalked off to a flight of stairs then briskly whistled. A large brown dappled owl swooped down to perch on his arm. Snape shuffled slowly over to them and scrawled out a quick message on an empty space of parchment then carefully tied it on. "Albus Dumbledore," he muttered to the owl. "Quickly." It sped like a blur out a high window.

"Now," started Snape, "I have to warn them about the attack." He began toward the outside where they had Apparated.

"You can't travel anymore in your condition."

That earned Avery a raised eyebrow. "And you want to go in my stead? Would you like to have all your appendages take off by that werewolf before you could even take a breath to explain?"

Silence was his only answer, along with a characteristic Death Eater glare.

"I can't be in two places at once and I certainly can't send you either way for me. They'd blast you into oblivion. Who knows if they'd believe you even if you were allowed to speak?"

"I think you are underestimating me, Severus. I also don't appreciate your imperious nature, especially in the condition you are in. I got you out of those dungeons and I'm the one in charge."

"Sorry to have bruised your ego, Avery," said Snape coldly. "But I'm your connection to freedom and you had better continue to treat me as such. Now you are going to Apparate both of us to Lupin Lea and I mean right now, I'm not in the mood to show up as the cavalry tonight."

Avery turned red in the face, but held whatever he wanted to say or do inside as he grudgingly followed Snape out the door they had entered not that long ago. He roughly grabbed the other man's shoulder as they stood under calm skies in the back garden and they simultaneously turned out of sight.

* * *

"I know you are both concerned and I understand that you want to help, but I'm not sure you accompanying me to their hiding place is such a good idea." 

"But, sir, she's our best friend and we haven't seen her for ages. We haven't even heard news from her for a month or so."

"Plus," interrupted Ron, "_we_ discovered that Wormtail had been in the castle. He was up to something. I mean whatever he came in here for it couldn't have been good for her." He shifted impatiently in his seat.

"No, it couldn't have been," echoed Dumbledore quietly, looking more worn-down than usual. He glanced quickly down at a piece of paper that kept drawing his attention back to it. It never changed between looks.

"What could he have been here for, Professor?" asked Harry, perplexed. Like Ron's constant squirming, his foot kept shaking up and down, nervously. Mentally he was trying to break down Dumbledore's barriers by repeating, _Let us go, let us go, let us go, let us go._

He regarded them over his steepled, long fingers. "You said he was leaving the Hospital Wing?"

They nodded in unison.

"Poppy's office?"

Nods all around again.

The wrinkles on his face seemed to deepen as he solemnly shook his head. "It can't be true. That should have been taken care of ages ago. Merlin, help us, if it is."

Both of the younger wizards' faces reflected each others bewilderment, waiting for Dumbledore to elaborate as to what he was talking about. But as usual the enigma that was Albus Dumbledore did not. Instead he quickly stood up, motioning for the other two to do the same. "Against my better judgment, you will be accompanying me to 1101 Kingsdown Road. Remember that." He tapped his head thoughtfully.

"Where's that?" ventured Harry as Dumbledore hastily rummaged through a desk drawer.

"Hermione!" answered Ron excitedly. Not really a location or anything helpful along those lines, but the boy had one thing on his mind.

"Lupin Lea, Harry, south of here." Successfully having retrieved a slightly ominous-looking black bag, he turned his attention to Ron, "Yes, that's where Hermione is."

"Lupin?" Ron's brow furrowed in one of his rare bouts of thinking. "You don't mean…"

"You'll be seeing someone else you also know. Now, link arms, please. I don't need either of you getting off ahead of time." With that done, he scooped a bit of shimmery dark powder out, tossing it up in the air. "Oh," he added quickly, "please try not to think too loud. I need to get us there in one piece." And before Ron or Harry could even begin to question what was going on, they spun out of sight.

A large, brown (very peeved-looking) owl watched in annoyance as the three humans disappeared. It turned itself around on the windowsill and waited for them to stop so it could get its recipient's bearings again.

* * *

"Remus!" 

That scream continued to echo in his ears. He hadn't needed his name called to alert him. Although he may have been a werewolf who could sleep like a rock, he was still a werewolf nonetheless. After the second squeak from the hall's floorboard, Remus resisted the urge to sit up straight in bed as his senses registered someone new. He knew the footsteps he heard were not those of Hermione. They were too heavy; the foot was too big. Somebody else was in the house.

Soundlessly, he had extracted himself from the covers and grabbed his wand from the bedside table. Now from his crouched position by the door, he watched helplessly as Hermione was dragged backward out of view. He couldn't damn well curse whoever it was now. She was being held directly in front of them. Bouncing on his feet in order to get a better look and aim, he saw her tumble into the opposite wall, a crisp smoky smell overtaking his senses. Then a sudden wave of black appeared out of nowhere that quickly descended upon her. At that moment, the cry came and he sprung out into the hall's light.

A quick _Stupefy _felled the closest Death Eater near him. It was mass chaos as they all pressed in around her with him fighting in the narrow space towards Hermione. She was doing a pretty good job wandless as a bubble appeared around her that the black robes continued to beat on. The rest had realized that they had awoken him. They were soon to realize that they were not to mess with a werewolf's beauty rest. Ever.

At his sudden appearance, the apparent lead Death Eater pointed at him over the mass and shouted, "Take him out!" As an onslaught of black roared toward him, the rest followed the next order. "Get the girl! Get what we came for!"

He shouted, "_Protego_," and watched as a red-lighted curse bounced of his shield and ricocheted to hit a Death Eater pounding on Hermione's shield. He slid slowly down to the floor; his face pressed against the invisible barrier to land at her feet. The next Death Eater after losing his wand to a well-placed _Expelliarmus _from Remus unwisely decided to use his fists instead. Raring back, he intended to land one directly in the middle of his advisory's face. On the contrary, he found his own head colliding with the wall, slammed there by Remus' hand, not magic. In the ruckus, he continued to press forward. _Like locusts_, he thought exasperatedly as he wasn't able to dodge a curse sent his way. A large nasty cut began to bleed through his gray shirt. He'd been through enough transformations, as if something as petty as that was going to slow him down.

Hermione was weakening, he could tell. Her empty hands kept balling into fists as if trying to grip something that wasn't there. She looked helplessly at him as the circle enclosed around her; both of her hands held up slightly as proof to say '_What am I supposed to do without it?_'. A sudden thought popped in his head and he yelled out, "_Accio Hermione's wand_," feeling incredibly stupid that he hadn't thought of it before. A whoosh went by his ear and he deftly managed it about the crowd to her outstretched hand. Wand now at the ready, she blasted several into stiff boards with one Body-Bind. She did have a certain advantage on her side as she blasted a few more while still cradling her abdomen.

Merlin, help them; they were stuck in the hall's small confines. Death Eaters trapped their only way down which was the stairwell. They'd have to get outside before they could Apparate. Finally, blessed finally, he was able to grab her arm and said to her, "We've got to get outside. It's the only way."

She gave him a brisk nod in return before pushing him into the other wall and a few Death Eaters as an acid green curse went flying by, clearly intended for Remus. It hit a woman who did not have time to shriek before the light left her eyes and she crumbled lifelessly to the floor. She quickly glanced over at him to ensure he was okay. He was taking care of the people he had stumbled into, but a well-aimed _Expelliarmus_ took him by surprise and his wand was sent flying down the stairs. In a rash moment, Hermione yelled, "Remus!" Then chunked hers at him which he expertly caught. "I've got a little more help than you do." She briefly pointed down. He looked at her like she had suddenly gone mad which she was pretty sure she had, giving up her defense like that, but he soon turned his attention back to the action and blew away some Death Eaters coming up the stairs for round two.

Then something even stranger happened as they were pressed farther back away from the staircase. Severus Snape tumbled out from their bathroom, whacking one Death Eater with the door, accompanied by a very bad-tempered looking Avery who instantly yelled, "_Crucio_," at said Death Eater.

Hermione was able to just blink at that for a moment before she had to dodge in order to avoid bits of the house from falling on her as a particularly violent spell shook the hall. Freakishly enough as she wished to retaliate, a wand whizzed by her face onto the floor. Picking it up, she glanced up to see Remus give her a nod and his eyes also turned to saucers at the sudden appearance of the two men. Not that he had any time to ponder it or anything. There was a rather nasty Death Eater trying to kill him at the moment.

He backed up, pulling Hermione protectively behind him as he unrelentingly cursed and hexed all the way, to the two newcomers. "What are you doing here? How'd you get out?" He stared at the man next to a pale Snape, "Avery? What the-" His gaze flitting between the two. Then he simply gave up even comprehending at that point. "Scratch that. It doesn't matter. We've got to get her out of here."

Each shook their head in agreement with Snape muttering, "Bloody cavalry after all." He looked at Remus wearily. "Just coming to warn you is all, Lupin. Though I see they've beaten me to the punch." His gaze unsettled Remus as the other opened his mouth to say more, but a spell rocked them back to their senses and their backs.

Hermione pitched forward away from Remus' protecting grasp into the arms of a Death Eater that promptly tossed her into the nearest open doorway. Her wand lay idle on the floor, having been knocked out of her hands during the shockwave. The others tried to regain their balance and keep from falling on the floor that was pitching in waves.

"_Avada Kedavra!_" screamed a blonde woman taking advantage of the sudden chaos.

Remus barely glanced up in time to see the vivid green shooting at him. He nearly had to shut his eyes to the brightest as it came closer; there was no time to move. Knowing he should be dead any moment, instead his breath got knocked out of him as a body slammed into his. It twitched violently as the light engulfed it instead and it fell like a heavy weight on top of him. Breathing roughly, Remus pushed off what turned out to be the still form of Avery. _Why had he done that for?_ thought Remus dazedly as he took the hand Snape offered him and got up.

"Come on, Remus," said Snape through gritted teeth; he was in apparent pain. "He's served his purpose. You, however, can't die. Because," he looked at him with this overwhelming remorseful face, "it's you. I was wrong all along. It had never been-"

But Remus cut him off with a "Get down!" and he barely missed hex. "Whatever you're going on about, Severus, will have to wait. Time for talk is later. She's still in that room. Come on!"

Hermione rubbed her back from where she fell onto the floor after being slung into her own bedroom. Groaning, she looked around for her wand. It was nowhere in sight. _Dammit_, she cursed inwardly. _Double that_. A Death Eater walked through the door; his wand was definitely not lost. No, it was pointed right at her. "He said he wanted you and the kiddo in one piece," he said, his tongue darting across his upper lip. "He didn't say I couldn't have a little fun with you first, girlie."

Her eyes searched the room for anything, anything at all to help her situation at the moment. They locked on her bedside table's bottom drawer. She frantically scooted back to it; his laughter following her the entire way. Jonathon didn't have much left in him, but she hoped he had enough for this. Her hand wrapped itself around the knob, tugging, and without her wand to undo the charms, it didn't budge.

The Death Eater laughed heartily at her sad attempts. "Problems? Nowhere to go now, poppet." He strode over to her, wand poised. "How about we play a little game? Let's see how loud you can scream."

At that moment, the drawer gave with a mighty pop and its contents fell out to rattle on the floor. He stopped at this change in events, trying to figure out what was going on. Hermione didn't have that luxury. She wasted no time in picking up the silver dagger off the floor and quipped, "The question is – How loud can you scream." Then dutifully sunk it into his thigh, not taking time to revel in his yell, and scrambled away toward the hall. It was actually a welcome sight from earlier. But a hand caught her before she made it.

They were outnumbered. That was for sure. Progress was being made though. Between the two of them, only eight of the henchmen still stood, cutting them off from Hermione and escape. Both looked worse for the wear with Snape barely still able to fire curses. Ultimately, a cutting charm caused him to stagger backwards as he began to pour out blood from a seemingly unimaginable number of slashes. Remus shouted, "_Protego_!" and held up the shield with his teeth grating as each spell hit. He fell to his knees beside Snape.

"Come on, Severus. You're going to be alright," he said encouragingly, but he knew better. "I'll hold you up. Come on. I can't heal," a nasty _Crucio_ bounced off and he felt the recoil, "you right now. Not safe."

"You'd be no help anyway. I've heard you're hopeless at such things," retorted Snape dryly. "Besides, nothing can help a dying man. Now get your bloody hands off me and save the girl."

"I-I-," stuttered Remus, noticing that she was still trapped in the room. So close, but yet so far way. Glancing back down, he could tell Snape was nearly gone. He only babbled one word over and over again.

"You…you…you…"

Confused again by this remark, Remus said, "What about me?"

But there was to be no answer to that because Snape had slumped against him, his form still and his wand falling from his limp hand. He was dead.

Surprising tears stung in his eyes as he lifted them to take in the crowd of Death Eaters. They were advancing, clearly thinking they had him this time. Remus was the only one left. Anger filled the void where the sadness had been. Anger at Snape's death, at the attack, and at them involving Hermione in this whole affair. With a feral growl usually only heard during the full moon, he rose to his feet and wielding his wand like a sword, he charged into the crowd with abandonment. Recklessly cursing his way to the bedroom door, he rushed inside, shutting the door behind him and sealing it against the other Death Eaters' protests.

His eyes scanned the dark room. Slowly, two figures emerged from the shadows. Remus raised his wand, ready to take out whoever it was so he could grab her and run. However, his grip faltered as the Death Eater held Hermione in front of him, a wicked looking knife held at her throat. The other man's hand held his wand, poking into her side.

"Drop the wand, wolf, or she dies." He pressed the dagger more forcefully against her neck, causing her head to tilt farther back.

"Don't do it, Remus. They need me alive. He won't do it." Her eyes pleaded with him to listen.

The Death Eater pushed the tip of the blade in enough to draw blood. "Don't bet on it, Mudblood. Just because you expire doesn't mean we don't have ways of extracting what we want."

At her sharp intake of breath at the contact, Remus jolted forward, but the other man trained his wand on him causing him to stop. "Pretty little knife," said the Death Eater conversationally. "Right sharp." He held out his leg where the puncture wound and blood could be seen through his robes. "Had it hidden in your room, didn't you?" He leered down at Hermione. "I'd take a guess that it's silver. Wouldn't you, werewolf? Let's find out." He grinned down at her. "Is it?"

Remus' face held a trace of disbelief as Hermione couldn't open her mouth to answer. Her secret revealed by a bloody Death Eater. It wasn't supposed to go like this. "No," she replied shakily. The knife pressed against her windpipe, making it hard to breathe. He asked again. "Yes," she sputtered out, taking in a deep breath as the pressure was released.

"Care to hold it to find out?" He cackled as he waved it briefly at Remus. "No?" The sandy-haired man remained silent. The Death Eater scoffed at him. "What could she have been afraid? Surely not you. Now, drop your wand."

"Don't, Remus, don't," pleaded Hermione as tears filled her eyes.

Stone-faced, he slowly lowered himself to ground and deposited his wand there. Raising both hands, he lifted back up, staring at her. "It's the only way, Hermione."

"Glad you agree. _Stupefy!_"

Hermione couldn't help but scream as Remus crumpled to floor. The banging on the door seemed to have become louder as the others tried to get in. She slumped in the man's grip as the helplessness of the situation set in. He grudgingly held her up.

"Thank the Dark Lord that he was spared. Oddly enough, he wants you both alive. Though how sad if there had been an 'accident'." He flicked his wand at the door and like an opened floodgate, they poured in. They stopped at the sight of the werewolf's unmoving form. "Take him back to our Master. I've got her."

As they dragged Remus out, Hermione caught sight of a familiar face in the hall's dead or knocked-out pile of bodies. Snape. From there, she could tell his chest was not moving up and down. "Professor Snape," she yelled out as if he'd suddenly awaken and realize what was going on.

The man holding her simply laughed. "No one to help you now. Especially not the dead." Then she felt a wand tip in her ribs and a bright red light engulfed her. She knew only blackness after that.

* * *

Nothing moved in the silent, not until a trio swirled into view down in the kitchen. Dumbledore instantly held up his fingers to his mouth, asking for their silence, before drawing out his wand. He motioned them both to do the same. Something wasn't right. They could all feel it. Slowly, he made his way to the stairs with Harry and Ron trailing behind him, eyes darting around nervously. 

Their assumptions were right as their first indication lay haphazardly upside down on the staircase. A Death Eater, his mask askew, was knocked out at the base. All eyes lifted to survey the rest of stairs. Several heads poked out at the top landing where the light encased them in a glow. Ron started to say something, but Dumbledore violently shook his head to discontinue whatever he was trying to voice. He beckoned them tofollow his ascent.

What appeared at the landing was beyond even the horrors that had played in their head. A heap of black robes clotted the hall's small confines. In a low whisper, Dumbledore pointed at the doors encircling them and said, "Check the rooms."

The three dispersed in opposite directions, one for each door. After a thorough search and finding neither Hermione nor Remus, they reconvened in the hall.

"Nowhere in sight," mumbled Harry, looking dejectedly around. "Wormtail tipped them off." His face set in harsh mask. "Seems good at that."

"They found her first," burst out Ron angrily. The abrupt sound reverberated around the house.

Dumbledore seemed at a loss for words then quickly regained his speech. "Clearly, they are both still alive since neither is here. That is a small comfort, Ronald. Our next step will be retrieving them from Voldemort's grasp."

"How can we, sir? We don't know where he's holed up at. He could be-"

Harry was cut off by a loud hoot from an oversized chestnut owl that swooped in to land on a body that none of them had taken notice to earlier.

"Snape," gasped Ron and Harry simultaneously.

"Professor Snape," corrected Dumbledore quietly as he knelt next to the man's still body. As the boys joined his side, he slowly closed Snape's blank eyes.

"Merlin," Harry breathed, "they got him. They got him. Always thought he was too big of a prat to actually die." Ron nodded solemnly next to him, actually choking up.

Keeping his senses, the older wizard eyed the owl who kept sticking its leg out at him with purpose-filled eyes. "What has he got?" asked Ron watery, he cleared his throat repeatedly to quell the sound. Harry had tried to discreetly press his fingers to his own overly bright eyes. An occasion neither had ever predicted would have happened.

"A letter." With that, Dumbledore extracted the piece of parchment and watched the owl flit over to another body, hooting over it. Avery and his owl were reunited. Unfolding the tight creases, the scribbled note to him was clearly too late in the coming, but the middle lines caused his eyebrows to shoot up in surprise.

"What is it, Professor?"

Ron groused crossly, "Probably from that bastard gloating. Is it?" He was working himself up to a near frenzy. "When I find him, I'm going to give him-" He never got to elaborate as to what that would have been as Dumbledore held up a hand for him to stop.

"Inadvertently from him, Mr. Weasley." He stood and began making his way through the debris. "Come along. We need to alert the Order. They now have a bearing."

He could be so annoying when he went cryptic like that. "What are you talking about?" asked Harry, exasperated. This was all happening to fast for them to keep up. "What was on the paper?"

"Oh, just an address." He couldn't help but smile grimly at them. "An address in Tom Riddle's handwriting."


	25. When One Door Closes

**AN: **A little heads up, this is probably my most 'T'-rated chapter. Dear Voldie is in it resulting in more language than usual and all those lovely harrowing situations everyone keeps stumbling into aren't pretty. But, hey, this is the longest chapter ever written for ANY of my fics. Going out with a bang:)

Reviews were wonderful, lovely, and STUPENDOUS! Please tell me what you think of the ending: nice, bad, ewww…, why? Etc. The commentary could affect the epilogue… What? An epilogue? Okay…so it's not that done…

This chapter is to **everyone **who ever reviewed, good or bad, especially to those who kept reviewing. Those were the ones that kept me writing. This is your story as much as it mine.

* * *

**Last Chapter: **_Snape _"He's served his purpose. You, however, can't die. Because," he looked at him with this overwhelming remorseful face, "it's you. I was wrong all along. It had never been-"

* * *

Groggily, he winced as he rolled over onto his back. The floor underneath him was cold and hard, smelling faintly of dirt. Remus then stared up into nothing as the darkness of the room pressed around him. Thanks to his enhanced vision, he was able to make out the walls and the door. His body groaning in protest, he sat up against the chilly stone wall. He rubbed a hand across his face, trying to shake the lethargy that weighed him down.

Taking a deep breath, he managed to stand up. Remus had already deduced where he was at. The dungeons. Now all he had to do was figure out where Hermione was. But, (he stared at the door) he had to get out of his cell first. His steps becoming more sure, he measured up the heavy wooden door up close. It looked dismally impenetrable. Going out on a limb, he grabbed the metal door handle and pulled.

Much to his surprise, it swung open toward him. Then he realized it had only done so because someone was on the other side pushing it in.

"Ah, it looks like he's awake," a razor-sharp voice came through the crack, followed by a stark white hand that wrapped itself around the door's edge to push it all the way open.

Remus instinctively backed up, allowing admittance to the tall, lean figure. Voldemort regarded him quietly before telling the Death Eater that followed him to watch the entrance. A mirthless smile played upon his thin lips as he said, "Please, don't stand on my account."

With a wave of the hand, Remus had the wind forced out of him as he fell back to the floor. He coughed a bit while he regained his breathing. His eyes livid and flashing, Remus resolutely got back on his feet. "Thanks, but no thanks," he answered, hoarsely. "I'd rather stand."

"Very well, then. Dark in here, isn't?" Voldemort finished conversationally. A simple snap of the fingers and light flooded the small space. Remus held up his hand briefly to block out the sudden blinding light.

Blinking away the residual pops of color, Remus looked hard at Voldemort and asked simply, "Where is she?"

His only answer was the other vaguely pointing a finger upward. The Dark Lord's attention was not on Remus at the moment. It had instead decided to linger on an object in the far right corner. "It looks as though Severus left something in here before someone helped him take his leave."

Ignoring Remus, he passed him and picked up a perfectly round, white sphere. He stared at it then his eyes flicked up to match Remus'. "I heard that he finally met his demise. Tell me was it quick or slow."

"Dignified," breathed out Remus. He was tensing all over. If he only had his wand, he'd love to-

"I had so wished to make it as painfully slow as possible. Snape had no dignity left as soon as he joined that fool, Dumbledore, permanently. It's good to hear at least he is no longer wasting space as he was before. I only regret I did not take the opportunity to kill him sooner."

"Seeing as he ultimately stole Hermione from your grasp then managed to help keep her hidden and then escape himself. How dense could you have been to keep him around long enough to pull that?" Remus knew he needed to stay alive in order to get Hermione out of this, but that last part slipped out.

Calmly, Voldemort tossed the orb to Remus who easily grabbed it out of the air. "What you fail to see, Lupin," he raised his hand up in a grasping manner and suddenly, the werewolf felt as though his windpipe was closing in on itself, "is that I'm about to have what I wanted all along. Sometimes, the journey seems so much more trivial when in the end, you reach the destination anyway." The pallid white face came within an inch of Remus' own that was struggling for breath. "Ultimately, I still win."

Voldemort let his hand go lax and watched as Remus massaged his throat which had turned a bright pink color. "You won't succeed, you know. Albus and the Order will find a way. It'll be one more time victory will slip through your fingers."

The Dark Lord seemed to find that amusing. "And how shall he find me? Have wolves such as yourself sniff me out?" He laughed. "Dumbledore," he spat out the name, "isn't the only one apt at fortifying places. I assure you, Lupin," his eyes became hard, "I am always three steps ahead of that old man."

Roughly, he grabbed the front of Remus' dirty, bloodied shirt and began dragging him toward the door. Soon though a wand pointed at him sufficed to haul Remus up the stairs. The orb had been long forgotten back in the cell below.

"Where-where…" Remus struggled to make words as his body was stiffening, movement was becoming impossible. Blinking became a chore.

All the other did was to slightly turn his head to observe behind him. "Don't need you running away," was his only initial response to the uncomfortable position Remus' body had taken. "And we're going on a visit. To someone, I'm sure, you've been very anxious to see."

Soon the hallways and passages blurred together as Remus felt like his neck was going to snap under the strain. He tried to remember the zigzagging way upwards, but it proved to be impossible. At last, a set of double doors were flung open at Voldemort's command, revealing a harrowing scene.

Hermione lay docile on an old, worn-down four poster bed; her arms serenely crossed across her chest as if in death. Minions scurried around her, preparing.

"Don't look so worried," sneered Voldemort at Remus' immobile expression, but his eyes gave away what he was feeling, "she's not dead. Nothing has even happened yet. But we're working on that."

A middle-aged witch with graying hair approached the Dark Lord, bowing appropriately. "My lord, she's ready. Do you wish us to continue?" Her eyes drew their yellowed-gaze to Remus. "While he is still here?"

The strain on his face was too much. He was desperately trying to yell out. Voldemort recognized this. "Speak up, Lupin. Speak up. What is all the fuss?" he taunted before releasing his mouth.

"You bastard, she's not full term. She still has at least two months left. It could-" burst out Remus, causing a few of the Death Eaters to pause. Voldemort waved his hand and Remus' mouth stopped mid-sentence.

"Don't worry about that. Andromeda is taking care of that right now."

The same woman from earlier approached Hermione with a steaming goblet. She ordered the younger witch to raise her head and she did so obediently. Soon she had been forced to down the mixture. A twitch set about her whole body as it set to work. A scream played upon her lips, but the other mumbled firmly to her, "No screaming. No sound. Nothing."

Quietly, as if not to disturb the picture before them, Voldemort commentated. "A simple cocktail of a growth and aging potion. We didn't have her long enough to try it sooner. Not that we would have." He gave a fake reserved look. "Oh, don't think me soft. We could have, but I'd much rather liked them alive. It would have been too much, couldn't have withstood the potion. But now," he grinned, expectantly at the bed, "is a different story."

He brought Remus closer to the bed. The beds of perspiration stood out against the vapid coloring of her skin. He couldn't stand to see her in this pain. All he wanted to do was to just reach out and touch her. His hands were glued to his side. So close and yet so far.

That voice was back in his ear. "It's killing you, isn't it? To see her like this. To have your child treated in such a way. If I had known you two were going to get together on your own, I could have waited for nature to take its course. Not that an impatient man such as myself could have waited for something as slow as that. Obtaining samples of your hair was much faster."

Shell-shocked. Complete and utter disbelief. At those words, his mind wiped blank. He was lying. Voldemort was just trying to get to him. Trying to dig his way under Remus' skin by telling such lies that would hurt him. His slightly widened eyes must have given something way because his mouth abruptly went slack.

"What the hell are you talking?" he gasped out. "It was Severus. Everything pointed to Severus."

Voldemort found his reaction amusing. "Severus? Severus Snape? Now that I think back on it, you could almost make it fit, but no, it was you. Always you. The zodiac sign, your desolation, the teacher relationship, and your werewolf affliction. All this time," he seemed to be laughing inwardly at all of this, "you were with her and you never knew."

His wand reappeared and Remus' heels dragged the floor as he was pulled out; his mouth snapped shut. "Ironically sad. But aren't all Mudblood love stories that way?"

Remus' back was to Voldemort as they left the room. He last saw Hermione thrashing in the bed after something new had been given to her. Horrified, he watched Wormtail enter and stand beside her, stroking her arm. The rat leered up at Remus, waving his silver hand tauntingly goodbye to him. Then his lewd expression intensified as he let his other hand wander over her chest, slightly exposed in her nightgown.

At that moment, Remus was whipped out the door and out of sight. He was mentally beating against the frozen body of his imprisonment. When he got Peter alone, he would wish he had never even thought twice about Hermione. He'd wished Voldemort would have killed him years ago.

Faster than the trip up, they reappeared at the dungeons and Voldemort lifted the spell as soon as Remus was flung back into his cell. With a nudge from his boot, Voldemort rolled the incandescent orb to rest at Remus' feet. "You might like that. Snape surely did." His shadow cut into the corridor's light, leaving half of the werewolf's face in darkness as he slowly leaned forward and picked it up. "Think over the words more closely, Lupin."

A Death Eater rushed up and interrupted the conversation. Voldemort nodded his head and sent the lackey back up the stairs. His triumphant sneer was evident, even in the bad light. "You're to be a father soon." He clanged the door shut as Remus rushed up to it, hoping to catch it in time. Of course, he did not and could only stare as the other opened the slot and said, "Cheers," before banging that shut.

Remus put his hands to the side of his head and sank gradually to the floor. He let the sphere fall beside him. He hardly even noticed as a pushed in button triggered a figure to rotate out from it. Dumbfounded, he picked it up and watched a flicking Megan Hollowell flare to life. Stuttering briefly, she said, echoing, "A-an-an inner darkness heeding the pale one's call. Cycle of mutate forced upon him." She pulsed then restarted her sentence.

This time Remus leaned in to listen. He was sure he thought she had said…no…it couldn't be. They had been told it was a 'cycle of hate.' Yet as he continued to listen, it became clear. She was distinctly saying, 'cycle of mutate.' His mind flashed back to earlier. Voldemort referring to his werewolf affliction as he so put it. Snape constantly saying 'It's you. You.'

After all, it was him. That bastard wasn't spouting a lie for once. Remus felt his body heave in sudden emotion. All this time and he'd never known. All the jealousy toward Snape, all the reserved joy for Hermione, all the self-loathing that it couldn't be himself. Pointless.

With a mighty lurch, he hurled the ball at the wall across from him. It satisfyingly shattered into a multitude of white shining pieces. A bloody fine time to find out.

* * *

"We've induced labor, my lord. Her contractions are shortening rather quickly, just as you asked." 

"Good, but," the group of Death Eaters flinched instinctively at the 'but', "why is she still under the Imperius? Look at her face. Look at that pain." He gently stroked her grimacing face. "I'd hate to have her miss out on that."

Hastily, the older witch shouted, "_Imperio!_"

Hermione instantly opened her mouth and gave out a pent up groaning cry. Tears leaked from her eyes as she dazedly pushed herself up in the bed, away from the crowd of onlookers. Her hands pressed to the side of her larger abdomen as the shockwaves of pain kept shooting through. The potion had done its job; she had never looked so pregnant. Her breathing came out jagged as she tried to draw up her legs in a protecting manner. Torpidly, her eyes whipped from face to face while another moan escaped.

In suppressed fear, she whispered, "It's not time. Oh my…" She paused, letting the sweeping pain pass. "Too early."

"No, no, no, no," chided Voldemort. He lowered himself down closer to her level. His hand caressed her stomach possessively. "It's right on time."

She shoved his arm away in disgust, and continuing with that momentum, pushed him out of the way. Daringly, Hermione grabbed a wand left idle near her and waved it around threateningly as she exited the bed. She soon realized the fault in that as she was barely able to stand. Breathing converted to solely huffing, she did not make it as far as halfway, collapsing onto a wooden chair. They both tumbled to the floor.

Hands grasped her as she attempted to thrash against them, but it hurt too much, it was like there was nothing left but the pain. Sobs of desperation filled the room as they placed her back onto the bed. She shook them off angrily, wiping her streaming eyes.

Voldemort grasped her face between his thumb and fingers, forcing her to look at him. "Nowhere to run. No one to call on for help. Dear Lupin is not coming." He forcefully let her go. "Is it time yet?" he asked the group impatiently.

"I believe so, but I need to check her dilation." The woman made a move to separate Hermione's legs which she refused to do.

Keeping them clamped together, she glared down at her and uttered lowly, "Over my dead body." The effect was lost as Hermione nearly screamed out a moan as her back arched upward. She seemed to be trying to crawl away from the pain as she drew up.

The Death Eater commandingly said, "Push. Push, girl!"

"No," she cried back. It was taking everything in the world not to do what they kept yelling at her. Her body was saying it with them. "It's time. Push." Shaking her head, the sweat causing her hair to cling to her reddening face, she shook her head in disagreement. She'd die first. It wasn't happening here.

A swift slap to the face caused the chaos to still momentarily. Voldemort seethed down at her. His red eyes dropped close to hers, narrowing forebodingly. "You filthy little Mudblood bitch. Push or I'll be forced to rip it from your womb."

"Try me," she glowered through gritted teeth.

Raising his wand this time, Voldemort nearly brought it down, yet opted to advance to the end of the bed. "Move," he commanded to the midwife Death Eater as he shoved her out of the way. He placed his hands on Hermione's knees, looking down at her, waiting on her reaction. She kept her eyes firmly closed. With a mighty wrench, he pulled them apart. This got her attention as the night gown slipped farther down her bent legs.

He held the position firmly in place as she struggled. "Negotiations are over. Now push," he growled. Still unyielding to his commands, he raised his wand threateningly. "Push, you whore, or I'll push for you." Nothing. A bright yellow light encompassed her abdomen.

Sitting straight up in the bed, Hermione gave out an ear-splitting scream as her muscles unwillingly convulsed. The sensation continued until she found herself cooperating, pushing along with it. It seemed to be the only way the pain would stop; she would pass out if it didn't soon. Her enduring screams, accompanied by bouts of weeping, echoed throughout the building.

* * *

His head jerked upward at the faint high-pitched noise that floated down into the dungeon. None of the other occupants paid any mind to it. Of course they wouldn't have, they couldn't hear it, and not that any of them would have cared anyway. But Remus did. He recognized the sound of her screaming. 

The werewolf inside of him equipped him with enhanced hearing. He pulled violently against the shackles that now held his wrists tightly, keeping his arms from reaching out too far. That same wolf had also given him a feral rage that not often surfaced from his usual calm self. It was showing its colors at the moment as he struggled with his bonds. A strong magic held them firmly in place and a low growl threatened to escape as he caught the echo of another yell.

Remus had only himself to blame for the position he was now in. He had duped an extremely dense guard into opening the door and coming inside. What the Death Eater had not known was that Remus had a concealed decent-sized piece from the broken orb. It had been sharp enough to leave a gash on the other's arm, but the attempt was useless as the man's back up arrived and Remus found himself in the same place as before.

Except being forced to stand and being chained to the wall.

Another sound. He tilted his head to the side, trying to pick it up better. It was a crying sound as before, but not Hermione's. Instead, the noise wasn't something an adult human could make. At that realization, he pulled twice as hard at his bindings, causing it to clink and clank loudly. He shouldn't be down here while this was going on. He should be up there. _Damn, none of this should be happening here._ They should have been at the maternity ward at St. Mungo's. Not here.

The insistent clanging had alerted (and annoyed) the Death Eater on duty. Marching over to the offending cell, he slid open the door's slot, told the occupant where he could shove those restraints, and cursed the man into silence. Satisfyingly, he watched as Remus slumped forward in unconsciousness; his bonded hands the only thing keeping him from falling to the ground.

* * *

"Exquisite," murmured a cold voice through the haze. 

She slowly drew a hand to her forehead to brush back the hair that lay there. Soon another hand joined hers, this one swept down the length of her jaw. "Remus?" The word was nearly inaudible due to her hoarse voice. But the icy chill that the touch left behind reminded her of where she lay and the fact that Remus was nowhere nearby.

Her head was filled with a fog, her sense of time gone. How long had she been out? The last thing she could recall was the loud crying. She had watched them carry him away, rushed him out of her sight. Then the struggle with the surrounding Death Eaters before succumbing to multiple shouts of _Imperio_.

Hermione gave a delayed flinch away from the touch before snapping her eyes open and sitting up in bed. Her body ached all over. But she didn't care. Nothing could have diverted her attention from the bundle being cradled in his arms. Voldemort seemed to be gloating down at her as he held it to where she couldn't see. No noises emitted from within the folds.

Eyes stinging with tears from a mix of emotions – anger, despair, and even love - , she opened her mouth to speak, but Voldemort cut her off.

His twisted grin whispered to her, "Not too loud; he's sleeping." He gazed down followed by another triumphant sneer. "I was thinking about naming him Salazar; the only name worth giving a boy who will give such power to the Dark Arts and to me."

"He already has a name," countered Hermione fiercely. "Jonathon. Jonathon Marcus." The fire in her eyes softened as she tried to keep the pleading from her voice as she said, "Let me hold him. I'm his mother. Even you can admit I have that right."

Voldemort's slit nostrils flared. No one told him what to do or how to go about doing it. What did it matter to him really though? What harm could she do? Within the hour, she'd be dead anyway. "Not many people know this," started Voldemort, "but my own mother died in my birthing. She never held me nor even saw me." His voice was devoid of feeling, its tone ever so frigid as he slowly lowered the blankets into her arms. "Call me sentimental."

Gently, she received the warm weight and moved the bit of black fabric back from his face. The serenely sleeping boy was losing the ruddiness in his face which had a tuft of brown hair perched on top. "Hullo," whispered Hermione softly. Admiring him, she let his tiny fist latch sleepily onto her finger. Her gaze roamed eagerly over his features, trying to imprint every little detail into her memory. His profile was so familiar; nothing like Snape's. Tears began to well up again as she placed a kiss on his forehead. "I love you, Jonathon. Don't let him tell you otherwise. Mummy loves you more than anything." She knew she looked vulnerable and weak in Voldemort's eyes. Yet, what he would never understand is that love can do that.

Like a bird's talons, Voldemort swooped down and plucked him from her grasp. "Visiting time is over, Mudblood. Be thankful I was magnanimous enough for even that." He peered down into the folds before deridingly saying, "Almost an exact replica of his dear father. How tragic he'll rot away in the dungeons and never see it."

Tersely, Hermione corrected him, "His father is dead. How can you even say that?"

"How forgetful of me. You've been living under a misconception, of Dumbledore's doing, no less. I assure you, his father still lives, for the time being. Werewolves are frustratingly resilient creatures."

The brow instantly creased at what he said, incredulity written across her face. _Surely, he doesn't mean…he's not saying that…that…Remus? It's Remus?_

Lifting a tiny hand, he mockingly made it wave goodbye to Hermione. "Wormtail will be attending to you shortly. Don't worry; I'll take good care of him in your stead."

He then turned and began his way out of the room. "No," she yelled out after him. "He's mine. No…he's…m-m," her words ran short as she collapsed into a sob. Pressing her hands to her face, she thought fretfully, _I didn't get to say goodbye. Just one more time._ Gradually, as she sat there, her grief began to morph into anger. Hermione's motherly instinct was kicking in. The impulse to find her young, take it back, and protect it. _There's no need for a goodbye because I'm getting him back. _She repeated that mantra as she glanced around the room and agonizingly raised herself out of the bed.

Her plan seemed constructed for failure. Get back Jonathon. Find and free Remus. Escape with both. All without a wand or anyone else. She knew Voldemort wouldn't harm Jonathon, he was too valuable, but would Remus still be…alive? _I have to reach him_, she thought. _He needs to know._ Doubt clouded her head. _But why would Voldemort lie about that? He has nothing to gain from it. I've got to find Remus; I have to tell him the truth._

She had not gone far before someone appeared behind her and said, "Where do you think you're going? I've got a few little games we need to play before I'm forced to kill you."

Spinning around, Hermione came face to face with the pointed, little nose of Peter Pettigrew. Not even having time to react, he shouted at her, "_Imperio!_" Then some liquid was pushed down her throat, giving her legs strength, accompanied by something being shoved into her hand. Mechanically, she followed him out of the room, down into the bowls of the building.

Neither of them noticed – well, the conscious one at least – the faint sounds of a tussle behind them as a leer played on Wormtail's features as he massaged Hermione's shoulder, pushing her to go farther and farther down the stairs.

* * *

The _creak-creak-creak _of the heavy cell door opening brought him out of his stupor. He blinked into the hall's light, trying to see who the duo was in front of him. Instantly, Remus recognized Hermione. Her appearance was haggard and most notable of all was the fact that she was clearly no longer with child. Pulling out from the wall as far as he could, he said, "Hermione, are you alright? Where's Jonathon at? Is he okay? Hermione?" She didn't answer. "What's going on?" 

"Quit your blathering, Remus. She won't speak unless I tell her to. She won't do anything unless I tell her to and she certainly can't stop herself from doing anything that I say." Wormtail ushered her into the room and closed the door for privacy.

Right away, Remus pulled forward on his restraints as the space became dimly illuminated. Hermione remained a half-step behind Wormtail; her face turned toward the ground, never lifting to look at Remus. "You bastard," he spat out, "how long has it been since she's given birth? How can she even stand after the strain you've put her through?"

"None of your concern at the moment," he replied airily. A vindictive expression twisted across his round face. "You should be more worried about yourself." He pushed Hermione in front of him, so close to Remus. His lips right next to her ear, he said coaxingly, "Show him what I returned to you, dear."

Raising her right hand, the dagger in it caught the faint light and glinted as she displayed it. Wormtail put his hand under her chin and lifted her face. Now Remus could see her blank eyes, clouded and controlled by the Imperius curse. He knew how it must have felt when she looked into his eyes as an uncontrollable, mindless werewolf. The feeling of sudden helplessness swept through him as there was no way to reach her.

Wormtail broke through his thoughts as he continued, "They say it's silver, like this." He held up his own seemingly gloved hand. Advancing on Remus, he roughly grabbed the front of the other's shirt with the metallic appendage. The werewolf could feel his skin heating up as it pressed through the fabric. A maniacal grin lit up Wormtail's face as he easily ripped the material of his shirt. He let his silver fingers etch bright, burning streaks across his exposed chest. Remus breathed deeply against the pain and gritted his teeth, not giving the other the satisfaction of a yell.

He did mutter out, "It takes me being chained up and defenseless for you to grow some. Just like in school, never daring until either James, Sirius or I showed up."

Grasping a handful of Remus' hair, Wormtail brought his head down closer to his level. "I could kill you so easily right now." His hand came back into Remus' line of vision. "I could strangle you before the silver killed you. But I had a much better idea." He roughly let go of his head.

"Come here," he barked at Hermione who had remained immobile throughout the exchange. Striding over, she took a place at his side. "Hold up the dagger." She did. "Now rest the tip of it right here." He placed a shiny index finger over Remus' heart, leaving a smoldering print.

Remus watched in horror as she put the dagger onto the spot and held the point unwaveringly. Her glassy eyes and slack expression remained as resolute as ever. "Now," commented Wormtail, "I have a decision to make. Should I let her kill you outright first – a little more pressure," she pressed the dagger in harder, resulting in a few tendrils coming up from it; Wormtail moved her hair back from her shoulders, slowly pushing her gown's straps off her shoulders and running a finger over her skin, "or should I let you live a little longer only to watch me ravage her over and over again then let her kill you anyway?"

Pulling forward as much as he dared, feeling the sharp blade go in farther, Remus glared at the sick individual in front of him, "You disgust me. I'll die – I'll kill you – before you ever get a chance to even attempt anything." He turned his attention to her. "Hermione, snap out of it. You're stronger than this. Fight against it. Fight."

He thought he saw a flicker of something in her gaze, but Wormtail jumped in, "I forgot how troublesome you always were, Remus, with your gallantry and righteous ways. I'd much rather rape her in peace without your commentary." His gaze roamed her features hungrily before barking out, "Raise the dagger above your head." Now the blade hung high in the air. "Stab him."

Her grip faltered as she seemed to be trying to do two things at once: bringing the dagger back down on his chest and keeping from doing so. Shaking violently, her arm was suspended immovable, not knowing what it wanted it to do. Seeing Hermione breaking, Wormtail yelled commandingly, "Kill him! Kill! NOW!"

On the word 'now', she brought the dagger down; its sharp edge slicing through the air until it found flesh. She plunged it in deep as he yelled out in surprise, not expecting her to do it. The blood poured freely onto her hand and it wetted her gown, changing it to a dark crimson color. He collapsed, gasping toward the floor, as she also buckled and her knees hit the dirt.

Her mind was clearing of the stupor around it and she took in her surroundings for the first time. What had she done?

* * *

"Pass the paper around. Quickly now. Remember what's on it." 

The members of the Order glanced over the parchment before handing it to the person next to them. Dumbledore had given them all the basics of what had happened and their course of action. They were now memorizing the address for Voldemort's hideout, written in the Secret Keeper's handwriting. Or rather it was a clever rearrangement of Voldemort's script by Snape. Everyone had been told of his death and the events that brought them all together that night. A few members were at the house, arresting the unconscious and collecting the dead, as the rest gathered at a safe house.

"Now," Dumbledore motioned them all closer, "our mission tonight is simple. Infiltrate the premises and rescue Hermione and Remus. If Voldemort," several flinched at the name, "has sped up nature, which I'm sure he has, and then there will be another individual in need of our assistance. We need to make sure no harm comes to her child if he's been born and get him out of Voldemort's grasp."

Nods and murmurs of understanding made their way around the circle. Most of the witches and wizards present were well versed in fighting and older than the one group that stood at the end. Next to Tonks stood Harry and Ron, but a few more, having guessed there would be an assault, had asked to come along. Neville, Luna, plus several other members of the old DA stood determinedly in the line.

After Dumbledore had outlined a quick plan of entrance and attack, they could waste no more time. The moment for planning was gone and now they would simply have to wing the majority of it or else there might not be anyone left there for saving. That thought chilled them as they began to Apparate out of the house, a few people at a time in staggered intervals. Last was Dumbledore to ensure everyone turned out of sight without any trouble.

Appearing in a barren field, beginning to be softly lit by the dawn, the group stood bewildered, looking around the emptiness. Dumbledore joined them, implored them with a hand signal to remain quiet before tapping a finger to his head. Remember was what he said to them. Think about what you read. Complying, they looked around intently. After a few moments, Neville Longbottom motioned excitedly to something he had found on the ground.

They converged on the spot and saw what he was pointing at. A gray steel door sat plainly in between the sparse tufts of grass. Cautiously, Dumbledore opened it, looking down. The darkness swallowed the pale light completely. Nodding solemnly, Dumbledore lowered himself into the opening, asking them to stay put for a bit.

A bright blue spark shot up the shaft, signaling that they could come down. Single file, the Order of the Phoenix descended into the bowls of Voldemort's lair.

* * *

The sudden darkness of the room pervaded Hermione's vision as she clutched her hands to her chest, shaking violently. The right one was slick and sticky; it felt sickening against her skin. If she could have seen it, the bright red color would have told it was blood. Fear consuming her at that thought, her arms flayed wildly around her. Finally, she grasped on to a shoe sticking up beside her. Feeling along, a leg followed and then her hand hit something cold pointing upward from an ample expanse. It was the hilt of the dagger; it was the reason there was no more light shining. The spell's caster had died. 

It was like some sort of dream she was awakening from. Things were making sense again. Instead of coming down with the dagger and stopping, she had opted to continue swinging it around. Into him. Into Pettigrew. She began to feel sick as she briskly started wiping her hand off on her gown. Her eyes adjusting, she half-crawled, half-stumbled forward.

"Remus," she called out blindly.

"Right here. Right in front of you," his disembodied voice answered. She was so glad to hear his voice.

Grasping a pajama pant's hem, she slowly pulled herself up, using him as a guide. Her hands roamed over his chest, feeling him tense as she touched the sensitive burn marks, until latching onto his shoulders. It was a relief for her to have something to lean on; resting on him as he gently said her name. Her legs were like gelatin. Whatever had been given to her earlier was wearing off and the fatigue weighed down her aching body.

Her hand rested against his face; their breathing filled the space. "Remus, are you hurt?" began Hermione worriedly. "They haven't…I-I- haven't?"

"No," was his speedy reply. "Don't worry about me. It feels like you're about to fall over. You fought off the curse, Hermione, like I knew you could; you've done nothing to me. I'm just glad to see you unharmed."

"Thank God. I can't remember what I've done exactly; it's such a blur." She swayed in place. "It's a good thing one of us can stand," she added lightly before her tone changed completely. Helplessly, she whispered, "Voldemort has him. He's taken Jonathon."

Remus could see her face clearly, thanks to his wolfishly enhanced senses. It was etched with worry and pain; her eyes unfocusedly on him. "I know," he lamented. "He'd waste no time in claiming what he wanted. As soon as I get out of these," he rattled the metal oppressors, "I'll change all of that."

Remembrance lighting up her features, Hermione felt along his perpetually raised arms until she found the cold shackles, a faint memory from before. They were completely smooth, no marks or anything to pry on. "How am I supposed to get these off? They're enchanted."

His head nodded toward the floor, unaware of her inability to see the motion. "Peter's wand is over there. You'll have to unlock them with it."

Hermione looked around, but it was useless. Everything was still shrouded in the thick darkness. No light remained. None spilled out from under the doorframe. "I can't see a thing. Your eyes are better than mine."

"It's directly to the left of him." Remus halted in his directions. "My left…his right…your right…"

"What?"

But with Remus directing, she placed a quivering hand on it, soon producing a faint ball of light, enough to see by, yet not prominent enough to draw unwanted attention. With more effort than last time, they were back face to face, in high relief due to the new shadows. Each of their faces mirrored back looks of exhaustion and a tentative release from concern. She wrapped her shaking arms around his neck briefly before setting to work.

As she tried to crack the magic that held him to the wall, her gaze lifted to his repeatedly, torn between saying something and keeping it to herself. Bringing herself to speak, she started, "Remus, Voldemort said some things to me when he brought Jonathon to me." She paused in the memory. "He's beautiful." A small, teary smile tugged at her lips at the thought. Continuing, she said, "He said that Dumbledore had told me wrong…about the father." Remus eyes shot up at that, but kept quiet. "I mean – he's Voldemort, why should I even take into consideration what he says, so I don't want you to get upset if it turns out to be a lie because," she took in a short breath, "he said the father wasn't Snape, it's–"

"Me," finished Remus, taking her hand in his newly freed one. He brought it to his lips comfortingly, like he'd done so many times before.

She stared astonished at him, wand raised at the other shackle. "You know? But how can you?"

"We had the same conversation and," he added softly, "for once he wasn't lying. He showed me proof. The actual recorded prophecy." He pointed at a mass of white shards. "Those records cannot be tampered with; it can't be made to say otherwise. Snape had written it down wrong, throwing the whole thing off." He rubbed his other released wrist. "It was me all along."

Tears welled in her eyes briefly before she blinked them away. Somewhere between falling and hugging, she entered his embrace as they were able to properly reunite. The safety and strength that his arms held permeated through her body. It was like coming home. Their lips met in the briefest moment prior to Remus breaking apart to say, "Let's go get our son back."

Wand at the ready, he helped her to the door, then held her behind him as he unlocked the door and peered out into the corridor. No one in sight, they soundlessly exited the dungeons.

* * *

The fighting was reaching a new intensity as the two disheveled, newcomers stumbled onto one of the main floors. Now they knew why they had met no Death Eater resistance. All of them where in this tight spot throwing curses at an equally large group. It looked like the entire Order had descended upon the place. In the middle of the fray stood Voldemort, holding onto the baby boy with a vice gripe as if some sort of power would leech into him. Spells were flying wildly as the Death Eaters circle tightened and the Order beat upon it. Everything was too chaotic for anyone to notice the sudden appearance of Hermione and Remus. 

All too soon though they were brought into the action as Remus forced Hermione down to duck an errant hex. He fired back from his position on the floor, causing the Death Eater to bowl back into some other black robes and topple them all over. A different set of people broke through the mass. Welcoming faces that helped them back to their feet.

Kingsley Shacklebolt and Mad-eye Moody somehow had pushed their way through the crowd. They regarded the haggard duo with differing expressions. "We were just coming to find you, but it looks like you don't need our help in rescuing," said Shacklebolt, yelling to be heard.

Moody grunted in disinterest as that crisis had solved itself and he took out an advancing Death Eater with a swift catapulting curse. "Trying to get to the kid," he stated in a gruff voice. "They're a stubborn lot. Merlin, Potter's going for heroics again." Reverting to a bellow, he ordered a group to quit pummeling some cronies and to, "Help Potter! Back the boy up! He's making it to Voldemort."

Breaking free of the people they were fighting, several Order members including Neville, surprisingly, rushed forward toward a recklessly fighting Harry.

Horrified and feeling completely helpless on the outskirts of the skirmish, Hermione watched Jonathon being swung around with abandonment by Voldemort as he flicked way advancers like flies. Then that feeling of dread doubled as she saw what Moody was commenting on. Harry had somehow made it the closest to the pale towering figure.

"Harry!" she shouted in vain. There was nothing they could do. The only way she was even on her feet was thanks to the arm Remus was holding her up with. She could only clench her fists and watch. It seemed like everyone was too far away. No one was close enough to help. Even Dumbledore seemed to pause from his own battle to stare. The entire battle, the entire war came down to just those two.

Face full of determination, Harry surprised Voldemort from behind, pulling the man down by his robes from his elevated position. They both knew dueling was pointless. Clearly as if by way of a sound system, everyone could hear Voldemort say, "Stupid boy. You will trouble me no longer."

His thin, bony hand enclosed around Harry's neck before the other had time to react, his wand falling away useless. The raven-haired boy clawed at the hand, face reddening. He flayed against the arm. "Rejoin your filthy Mudblood mother, Potter," hissed Voldemort, a cold, confident smile on his thin lips. He brought the teenager's face close to his, "Tell her that 'love' isn't enough against the likes of me."

His words were premature, but his actions were even more so. As he brought Harry closer, reveling in his apparent soon-to-be victory, Voldemort did not notice the other's hand reaching out desperately to the bundle cradled in the opposing skeletal arm. The twisted leer wiped off his face as he realized what was going on.

But it was too late.

Harry had grabbed a wayward arm poking from the midnight blanket.

Then time stopped momentarily as a blinding light filled the space until none could even keep their eyes open. Hermione turned her face into Remus' chest as he clutched her, his head nestled in her shoulder. A powerful wave rocked the hall next, sending everyone to the floor.

Save one.

Only because he no longer stood where he had.

Nothing of Voldemort remained to fall.


End file.
